The Devil's Tears
by harperbane
Summary: The La Push pack, divided between the leaderships of Jacob Black and Sam Uley, has grown up. Now it's time for their children to make what they can of the world they've been born into. Title is a reference to the lovely song by Angus and Julia Stone - don't worry... there won't be all that much darkness in this story! Rating for Liam Uley's mouth...
1. Chapter 1

The minute hand of the wall clock above the stove jumped to the large 7, ahead of the stumpy hour hand on 6, but the glowing green numbers on the microwave read 6:37. Whether it was 6:37 or 6:35, Penelope Jones couldn't quite bring herself to care, just as long as she didn't have to watch the two clocks disagree for much longer. The food on her plate had vanished some time ago, as it had from her mother's plate. Between her mother and herself, two little gremlins were snarling and bickering over who got the last lump of mashed potatoes.

At the table's end on her mother's side, her father sat talking and gesticulating broadly and loudly to those listening. Penelope couldn't remember whether the pork chop on his plate was his third or fourth. She knew she'd seen him reach for the bowl (it was more of an industrial-sized pot, Pen mused) of mashed potatoes at least four times.

Opposite her father, just past the gremlins (who had now moved on to blowing bubbles in their chocolate milk) and herself, sat their host, whose plate was also splattered with the remains of several portions of dinner. His hulking presence was even more intimidating than her fathers, but the easy smile on his lips and the gentle grasp in which he held his wife's hand betrayed his usual seriousness. His wife looked as she always did, beautiful despite the scarring that pulled at the skin of her face, and tranquil in her home, surrounded by her family. To her right, across the table from the gremlins, sat the hostess's youngest son, who at that very minute, 6:37 or 6:35, was shoveling food into his mouth with as much vigor as the tiny beasts beside Pen had.

To his right, sat the last person at the table, who, at 6:36 or 6:34, having glanced up in her direction, had dropped his jaw, and proceeded to let the mashed potatoes on his tongue slide down to his lower lip. He hadn't looked away from her since. Pen managed to coax her eyebrows down from under her hairline, and wondered, in the midst of her exhaustion and boredom, how much longer it would take for the whole spoonful of potatoes to plop out of Liam Uley's mouth and back onto his plate.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Before we continue, we must travel back to the early hours of June the 24th, where we find Penelope Jones boarding a plane.


	2. Chapter 2

The noises of a hundred people shuffling, chatting, crying, yawning and grunting as they arranged their bags in overhead compartments and under seats took on a familiar tinny and slightly muffled sound as Penelope stepped over the gap between the portable walkway and the plane, and greeted the flight attendant. At 3-something-or-other in the morning, all she wanted to do was find her seat, stick her earphones in and fall asleep. She watched with barely concealed exasperation as a woman, determined to use the bathroom in the front of the plane, began to barge her way back up the aisle in Pen's direction. She glanced over the pillow she was hugging to her chest at the boarding ticket in her hand. Seat 12A. Fantastic, she thought, and glared determinedly at the target seat, not three rows away. Ms. Pushy was still making her way up Penelope's aisle, getting closer by the second. Penelope desperately wanted to avoid being smashed up against this woman as she plowed past, so when the people in front of her, who turned out to be in a group, all sat down to her right, she took two giant steps forward and swung herself straight into her row of seats. The strands of hair that had become loose from the short braid down her neck fluttered in the rush of air that followed the charging woman just seconds after Penelope had darted to safety.

Congratulating herself accordingly, Pen slid over the seats to 12A and, after retrieving her trusty iPod and a pack of gum from the front pocket, toed her carry-on bag as far under the seat as it would go. She browsed the in-flight magazines with blurry, sore eyes until the flight attendants had finished their safety demonstration and the plane had begun to taxi down the runway. The flight from Los Angeles to Seattle was popular and often packed. The flight from Los Angeles to Seattle that departed at 4:09 AM, however, was not, and Penelope ended up having the three-seat row all to herself for the next three hours. She tucked her feet up on the seat next to her, threw her pillow down against the window and curled up.

It took her the first hour to adjust to the loud roar of the plane and the comfortableness (or lack thereof) of the seat, and that time was spent reminiscing. Her surprise goodbye party, thrown by her best friends, had ended not three hours before her flight, and they'd spent the better part of the night dancing to classic rock and telling and retelling all the funny things that had ever happened in any of their lives. She would miss everyone. She thought involuntarily of her grandparents' faces as she waved goodbye for the last time before going through security, and smiled into her pillow. She missed having a mother and father like the rest of her friends, but she had to admit that her mother's parents were lovely. She was proud that her presence in California had been what brought her mother and her grandparents back together again. Her mother, Coraline Jones, was no angel (if the ten years she spent avoiding her parents said anything), and for years the relationship between daughter and parents had been horribly strained. Penelope had brought the Jones' back together again.

But it was time to reunite Pen's family now. When she landed in Seattle, her mother would be waiting for her with open arms, and together, they'd drive down to the little Native American reserve that her mother and her mother's husband lived on.

The drink cart rattled down the aisle, but when the attendant reached row 12, she hadn't the heart to wake the young woman curled around her pillow in seat 12A.


	3. Chapter 3

For once in her life, Penelope's suitcase was not the last one to appear on the conveyor belt. She lugged it off with relative ease and, after slinging her carry-on over the handle, she made for the large, electric sliding doors across the room.

Spotting her mother was not hard. Coraline Jones was fair-skinned and fair-haired, just like Penelope. In fact, the only difference between Coraline and her daughter was eye color. Coraline's eyes were a pale green and Penelope's a pale blue. When the sliding doors whooshed open to reveal the horde of waiting people, Penelope scanned the crowd for her mother's familiar complexion. She found her mother to the side of the door, waving her arms and smiling brilliantly.

"Penelope!"

She let her mother wrap her up in an embrace and inhaled the familiar perfumed scent.

"Hey momma," she grinned as they ambled, still locked in each other's arms, away from the crowd. "I've missed you!"

"And I you, my love," Coraline beamed and let go of Penelope. "Look who came with me!"

But Penelope didn't have time to look before a hulking figure appeared between the two women and wrapped her up in yet another bear hug.

"Daddy!" Penelope squealed as the air was squeezed from her lungs.

"Welcome home Pen!" a deep voice boomed, and Penelope was sure that they'd drawn attention to themselves. "We missed you."

"Oh, I missed you," Pen answered as her step-father lowered her to the ground. He grinned down at her enthusiastically, still holding onto her arms. She was thankful for his strong grip two seconds later when two small bodies slammed into her sides and latched themselves onto her.

"Pen!" they both hollered in greeting.

"Gremlins!" Pen cried back, and smiled lovingly at their chortles. She ruffled the shaggy mops of black hair atop their heads. Tommy scowled momentarily and tried to bat her hand away, while Toby beamed up affectionately like a puppy. "Mom, you have to stop dressing them in matching clothes. I can't tell which one is which," Pen joked, throwing her head back towards her mother. The twins screeched and giggled, declaring indignantly just who they were.

"Easy boys," their father chuckled and placed a hand on each head. His fingers stretched down over their foreheads. "Why don't you take Pen's bag?"

"I want it!" Tommy yelled and grabbed onto the handle of the suitcase. The whole contraption towered over him until Toby accepted his challenge and launched himself onto the other side of the suitcase and brought the thing down to the ground.

"Brady Fuller," Coraline scolded. "You take her bag," she ordered, wrapping an arm around Pen's waist. "Boys, remember your inside voices."

As they made their way out to the car, Pen relaxed to the soothing rambling of her family. The twins bickered and giggled almost constantly, every now and then latching on to Pen's hand or turning to beam up at her. Their dark skin and thick black hair made it hard to see any physical similarities that she shared with them, but every now and then, the Coraline in Tommy and Toby shone like the sun and even strangers could tell that they were related in some way.

Her mother's soft, slow voice could calm her after just about anything, and she listened intently as Coraline told her all about the new house they'd bought the previous year.

"It's so much closer to everybody. The boys get to hang out with Cole Cameron and I don't have to worry about driving them everywhere."

"You mean I don't have to worry about driving them anywhere," Brady called back over his shoulder, before sending a cheeky smile in Pen's direction. She grinned back when Coraline turned her nose up in the opposite direction.

"That's great mom," Pen said, stifling laughter. Brady turned back around to dig through his pocket for keys. Like most of the residents on the res, Brady's skin was a deep russet. He kept his hair cropped fairly short and his body in top shape, giving the impression of a military man. But his playful grin and bright brown eyes would always belay that impression. Pen loved him as she would her own father, a man who had deserted Coraline at the first mention of "baby". Coraline won full custody over her daughter, and Pen had never been interested enough to seek out her biological father. Whoever he was, he couldn't be any kinder or goofier than Brady Fuller. Penelope wouldn't have it any other way.

The ride back was uneventful. At 6:30 in the morning, the roads were not yet clogged with cars and the sun was still rising over the treetops and mountains. Not that Penelope could see it - Washington was as cloudy and grey as ever. By the time they entered onto the res, both twins had fallen asleep, and as Pen had volunteered to take the middle seat, their lolling heads had found stability on her shoulders.

"So I heard Zoe organized a party for you last night."

"Yeah," Pen answered her mother. "She and Gemma had the basement all decked out for us. They all hid behind the couch - I still don't know how they accomplished that - and jumped out when I sat down."

"Did they get'cha?" Brady snickered.

"I jumped about two feet, if that's what you're asking," Pen smiled back ruefully. "Mason had made a playlist with just about every great classic rock song you can think of and he had that playing all night. It was fun. Every time a good one came on, we'd all jump up to dance."

"Oh, sweetie that sounds great. You're going to miss them all."

"I will," Pen agreed and exhaled heavily. "But it's okay. I'll see them again. Zoe's considering Antioch in Seattle as her first choice, so she might be up here next year."

"Antioch?" Brady asked quietly from the front seat.

"College," Coraline answered swiftly as she guided the car around a tight bend.

"It's got this really wacky system, which totally works for Zoe," Penelope explained before falling silent. She felt the corners of her mouth ache as she yawned massively. "Can I take a nap when we get home?"

"Of course not," Coraline said matter-of-factly. "Do you want your internal clock to stay the way it is?"

"Cora," Brady chuckled, even more quietly than before.

"Oh, she'll be fine," Coraline assured them all and turned again, this time into a long driveway. "Anyways, we've been invited over to the Uley's for dinner tonight, in celebration of Pen's arrival. It's sort of a barbeque thing. We'll head over around 4:00."

"What?"

"Oh that'll be fun," Brady said loudly over Pen's incredulous question. The twins jolted awake.

"We're home!"

"Are we there yet?"

"Pen, you'll like the Uleys."

"I've met them," Penelope reminded her step-father. "Pace is alright. The other two are dangerous."

Brady chuckled. "Liam and Nate? N'aw they're good boys. Liam, especially, has been working really hard with us. Nate's your age, Pen. I don't think he has the concentration yet to act like Liam, but he'll get there. They're good boys."

"I thought Liam worked with Jake at the Garage," Pen said blankly.

"Oh." Her father paused for a moment and Cora coughed a little. "Well, he's working really hard over there too. I just meant that he's been doing a couple jobs for us as well."

"He was working on the Jameson house, right hon'?" Cora supplied and Brady agreed enthusiastically.

"Penny can I show you my room?" Toby asked, tugging lightly on a strand of Penelope's hair. She felt a sharp tug on her other side.

"I want to show you mine first," Tommy insisted, and Pen plucked her hair from their fingers as the car came to halt in front of a little two-story grey house. It was surrounded by trees, but a good-sized yard had been cleared away. Looking out Toby's window, Pen could see a little trail leading into the trees on the left side of the house. Coraline had told her about it. The twins used it frequently to run to the Cameron household, which was just beyond the trees. Cole Cameron was their age and their best friend.

"Let Pen put her stuff down and then you both can show her your room," Coraline was saying as she opened the door for Tommy. Brady was already at the trunk, lifting Penelope's suitcase.

"Come see your room, Pen," he called back to her excitedly. Despite her sleepiness and slight frustration with her mother's tendency to plan too many activities per day, Pen smiled and, after helping Toby with a stubborn seatbelt, exited the car.

"Lead the way bubba," she said to Brady and grabbed a twin's hand in each of hers. "Come on, gremlins. Let's go find my room."

It was small and painted a light shade of green. Surprisingly, Pen liked it. The color wasn't too cucumber-y or too depressingly dark. "My own personal green-room," she mused happily, spreading her hands over the purple blankets that her mother had made her bed with.

"I knew you'd like it," Brady grinned from the threshold. "I know it's a little small, but the closet is a walk-in - suited for dresses and things, I'm told - and it's the only room besides ours that has it's own bathroom. I figured you wouldn't favor sharing a bathroom with the boys."

"No, indeed," Pen agreed and, after mounting the bed, jumped straight into Brady's waiting arms. His extremely warm skin and natural musky smell were so comforting. "I really did miss you all," she admitted quietly. She could hear her mother fussing over the boys downstairs and was glad of the moment she had to herself with Brady.

"You were my first kid," Brady reminded her, pulling back to meet her eyes. "I don't care that you don't look like me or share my blood. You're my daughter and I'll always love you."

He placed a kiss on her forehead.

"So I guess you missed me too," Penelope said, and Brady grinned. He pulled her close once more before setting her back down.

"Duh."

Pen snorted.

"Come on," Brady said suddenly, jerking his head towards the stairs. "Let me show you one last thing before the boys get a hold of you."

He led her downstairs and around the corner to another set of stairs.

"I didn't realize this place had a basement," Pen remarked absently. Brady chuckled and ushered her down. The room they entered into was dark with the exception of two squares of light, cast by the only windows in the room, set high into the far wall. Brady flicked a switch and a couch, armchair, coffee table and several lamps were bathed in warm yellow light.

"We planned on using this as a TV room of sorts," Brady explained. "But the boys were sneaking down without your mother knowing, so we moved the TV upstairs."

"Interesting," Penelope mused, looking around the room. Her eyes fell upon a black shape that at a first glance had looked much like a desk. "Daddy, you didn't," she breathed, striding across the room. It was stationed directly beneath the two high windows. Pen pulled the lid up and off the keys.

"Your mother and I bought it last year."

"After I played for you at Grandma's?"

"Mmhm," Brady confirmed and reached down to pull the bench out from under the piano. "I know it's not as nice-sounding as a real piano, but we thought that the keyboard would be more versatile. It's got a headphone jack and all that, so you can play whenever you want."

Pen grinned in acknowledgement of his reference. Brady had been the first to become aware of her habit of playing her grandparents' grand piano late at night when she couldn't sleep. The Jones' house was big enough that it wouldn't bother anyone sleeping, until Mr. Brady I'm-a-light-sleeper-when-I-want-to-be Fuller came to visit. He sat with her whenever she played for the rest of the trip, regardless of the time of day (or night).

"I've been meaning to talk to some people about getting you lessons," Brady continued, scratching the back of his neck. "You could really make something of yourself, you know."

"I'll make something of myself," Pen assured him, "but not by playing piano. It's just a hobby," she said with a smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, honey."

Thundering footsteps on the stairs alerted them both to the incoming bodies.

"Pen! Come see my room!"

"No see mine!"

Both her hands were snatched from her jean pockets and she was dragged past her chuckling step-father and up the stairs. They led her back up to the second level and down the hall, past her room and her parents', to the last room.

Inside, two single beds had been pressed up against opposite sides of the room. Opposite the door, a window looked out onto the street, and both adjacent walls had been painted over. The twins shot into the room, breaking apart and streaking for their respective beds. They bounced ecstatically and stared at Pen.

Tommy's wall was painted a deep purple. Paper cut-out letters spelled out a giant T-H-O-M-A-S in orange over his bed. Toby's side of the room was painted a royal blue that wasn't too bright or dark. T-O-B-I-A-S was spelled in fire-engine red above his bed.

"Do you like it, Pen?"

"Our room is cool, isn't it, Penny?"

"Aw, you guys, very cool," Pen exclaimed, eyeing the walls appreciatively. "Did you two cut those letters out?"

"Noooo," Toby drawled. "Mrs. Kimberly used a stencil."

"Everybody in my class did it," Tommy informed her.

"Mine too," Toby confirmed. Pen chose not to remind them that they were part of the same class. She'd already decided to let the shared-bedroom issue slide. The twins' tendency to count incorrectly was cute, and harmless at their age.

"Penelope! I'm going to run to the store for some milk! We ran out last night. Do you want to come with?"

"No, I'm alright," Pen called down the stairs to her mother. Coraline yelled a brief goodbye to the twins, who immediately jumped off their beds and scampered towards the stairs.

"Mommy, we wanna' come!" Tommy yelled.

"We still have our shoes on!" Toby added, and they dashed down the stairs and out the front door, held open by a faintly smiling Coraline.

"We'll be back soon, sweetie," Coraline assured Pen, and after calling out another brief goodbye to Brady in the kitchen, she left.

Penelope heaved a sigh and trotted down to the kitchen. Brady was reading a newspaper and sipping some freshly brewed coffee. Pen reached for a mug.

"Oh, don't do that," Brady advised, frowning. Pen sighed and let her shoulders droop.

"I've been up all night," she whined and slumped over Brady.

"Then don't drink coffee or you won't get any sleep in before she gets back."

It took Pen a moment to understand. Then she placed a big, wet kiss on Brady's scratchy cheek and dragged herself back upstairs as fast as she could.

"Come wake me up!" she hollered down, and even left her bedroom door open just for good measure. She barely caught Brady's affirmative grunt as she peeled off her jeans, shoes and socks and tunneled under her blankets. Everything smelled freshly washed and homey. She burrowed her cheek into one of the soft pillows and closed her eyes.

She could hear the birds in the trees outside. It was comforting, like the steady flip of pages from downstairs and the warm smell of fresh-ground coffee. Penelope was out within five minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

Brady kept his promise and woke Penelope up just as Coraline turned the car into the long driveway. Pen had just enough time to grab her toilet kit from her suitcase, strip and slip into the shower before her mother and the twins came tramping into the house. If she'd gone down immediately, her mother would have noticed her messy hair and sleep-filled eyes. Pen chuckled triumphantly as she looked through the basic toiletries her mother had bought for her bathroom. Satisfied with the choice of shampoo and shower gel, she eased herself under the warm spray of water and tried to rub the sleep and stress from her eyes.

When she finally extracted herself from that lovely, steamy little shower stall, the wall clock read 8:50AM. She'd largely outgrown her habit of taking extremely long showers, but the forty-minute car ride after the roughly three-hour plane flight had left her feeling especially cramped and gross. Besides, she reasoned, forty-five minutes was nothing to that one two-hour shower she took when she was thirteen.

If it was nine o'clock, then that gave her roughly eight hours before she needed to be ready to go to the Uleys. She unpacked before going down to meet her family.

The day passed rather slowly, and Pen wasn't sure whether she was thankful for that or not. She wasn't particularly excited about going to an all-afternoon barbeque with kids she hadn't seen in years, but she was fighting sleep every minute. She ended up on the couch, half-listening to her family's stories and going over every single memory she had of the Uleys.

Emily, the mother, was sweet. Penelope liked her. Penelope's mother and father liked her. Penelope was pretty sure that everybody liked Emily.

Sam was kind of scary-looking, usually very serious, and even bigger than Brady. She remembered being petrified of him as a child, but knew from others that he was generally a nice enough person. Plus, Penelope was just about as non-threatening as you can get. She moved on.

Pace, the eldest son, was known for being very similar to his father in temperament. However, he'd been Pen's favorite when she was little because he wasn't completely against giving her piggy-back rides and taking her to buy ice cream. Granted, he usually took all the little kids with him for ice cream, but it had felt special at the time.

Nate was her age and the youngest of the Uley brothers. The last time she'd met him, he'd been obsessed with the new game-boy he'd been given as a birthday present. Considering the fact that practically nobody used game-boys any more, Pen knew that her knowledge of Nate must be outdated. She resolved to wait and see what he was like at 4:00.

Last but not least, Liam. Out of the three brothers, Penelope remembered Liam the most vividly. Perhaps it was because he had a habit of tugging at her hair and pointing out the differences between his and hers when they were younger. Perhaps it was because he was always the center of attention in his little gang. Or perhaps it was something to do with his name. Pen had always loved the name Liam. It was such a soft name, such a pretty name. The intrigue, however, stemmed from the fact that Liam was not soft. After eight years away, Penelope couldn't quite discern whether or not he was pretty, but that was beside the point. Pen had developed a childish theory that names defined individuals when she was little. Her mother's name, Coraline, was beautiful and free and unusual, just like her mother. Brady was a strong, reassuring name, just like her step-father. Liam Uley had never fit into the parameters of this theory.

Pen shifted on the couch, rousing herself. She'd been drifting off.

The fact of the matter was that she hadn't seen or been with these boys in many years. She had no real material to judge them by. The only brother she'd spent significant time with was Pace, when he took them for ice cream down the road. Liam and Nate had just been passing faces who tugged at her hair occasionally.

"Penelope!"

She jolted upright. God, she'd fallen asleep again, hadn't she?

"I'm up," she blurted out. Coraline frowned a little and patted Pen's knee.

"Sweetie, you won't be able to sleep tonight if you keep dozing off. Brady, you were supposed to watch her for me," her mother scolded lightly. Pen shifted her legs accordingly so Coraline could settle herself at the other end of the couch.

"Sorry, Cora. I reckon I drifted off too," Brady explained casually. Despite the frowns she'd been giving them all, Coraline smiled at her husband's antics - Pen watched her do it from the corner of her eye.

"What time is it?" Someday, she hoped to find herself in a relationship as happy as her parents'.

"It's about 3:20. Why don't you go get ready to go? It'll wake you up a little."

Pen mumbled an answer and lifted herself from the couch. She stood in front of her closet for a few minutes, blankly looking over the clothes she'd recently put away. Her shipment would be arriving sometime in the coming weeks with the rest of her wardrobe. She had a few dresses with her, but shied away after a moment's contemplation. The cloudy sky outside wasn't promising any warmth. Typically barbeques involved some outside time too…

"Penelope! We've got to go!"

Pen grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and after a moment's hesitation, a slightly more blousy tank top. It was baggy enough that she wouldn't have to worry about how skinny she was looking that day, and if she paired it with a cardigan, she'd be plenty warm. If it got too cold, she'd just ask Brady for a hug.

She chuckled to herself as she shimmied into her jeans and slipped the tank over her head. She grabbed the nearest cardigan off its hanger (a big, much loved, wooly one) and slid her feet into flats. Oh, in a couple hours she'd be freezing, she knew it.

I should have just worn the dress.

"Pen!" Now Brady was calling. That meant it really was time to go. Pen glanced at her phone and iPod. But who exactly would she be calling? Listening to music at a social function was never acceptable either, especially if the social function was to welcome you home.

"I'm coming," she shouted at her door, and left the beloved electronic devices on her bed. She jogged downstairs and out the door that Brady was holding open for her. From the porch steps she could see that the gremlins had reserved her favorite seat for her - right in the middle of both of them. Pen felt another wave of sleepiness hit her. Maybe Coraline was behind the seating plan. In the front seat, her mother did look just a tad frazzled.

Coraline started down the driveway as soon as Pen and Brady were buckled in. At her mother's bidding, Pen tried to brush through her hair with her fingers, but the multiple naps had done quite a number on the easily tangled strands and she pulled it into a low ponytail in the end.

The drive to the Uley house took roughly fifteen minutes. As they drove, Coraline pointed out houses of family friends. Pen nodded and hmm'd appropriately, and watched the dark forest pass by. A rare spot of sunlight had illuminated the Uley driveway when Coraline pulled in. The cleared space around the large yellow house was much broader an expanse than what surrounded Coraline and Brady's house.

Well, with three boys, Penelope reasoned, as she helped Tommy with his seatbelt. Coraline was already making her way up to the front door, a very large rectangular glass dish balanced against her hip. Tommy's seatbelt clicked open and he shot off towards Toby, who was following in his mother's footsteps. Brady coughed loudly, and Pen met him around the back of the car. An open trunk revealed two more huge baking dishes.

"Blonde brownies?" Pen inquired. "For a football team, perhaps?"

"For a bunch of hungry boys," Brady clarified, and Pen knew by the grin crooking his lip that he counted himself in with those hungry boys.

"You dork," she grumbled playfully, and took hold of one of the dishes. Brady grabbed the other and slammed the trunk shut. Together they made their way up to the now open front door.

"Come on," Brady urged when Pen hesitated on the doorstep. "We're all family here. Kitchen," he directed, jerking his chin in the right direction. Pen turned right, into what seemed to be a family room. Beyond that, she could hear her mother and Emily gabbing.

"Brownie delivery," Brady bellowed out from behind her, nearly blowing out her eardrums in the process, and Emily poked her head out of the kitchen.

"This way dears," she called, smiling radiantly despite the familiar scars that marred her face. Pen made her way over timidly, wary of any further outbursts from the goofball behind her.

"Hi Emily!" Penelope called out upon entering the kitchen. It was huge - the kind of kitchen that is meant to be enjoyed and inhabited often. Emily spun around from the stove and took the brownies from Pen.

"Penelope! My, how you've grown!" She smiled when Brady grabbed the brownies from her with his free hand.

"I'll take these," he sang, and turned to Coraline.

"You know, I think you were 10 years old the last time I saw you," Emily mused, pulling Pen in for a hug. "Look at you now!"

"I'm a little taller, I'll admit," Pen joked.

"Not by much though," Brady guffawed, and Pen sent him a withering glare in response.

"Who's taller?" A shadow fell over Pen as Sam Uley stepped in through a back door, presumably which led to the backyard. "Hi Penelope," he said simply, when his eyes fell on her.

"Hey Sam," she grinned, jittery all the sudden. He was huge.

"Brady, I need you on the grills," Sam ordered and, after giving Coraline one last kiss, Brady disappeared out the back door. "The boys are outside," Sam said before ducked out after Brady. His eyes had darted to Penelope for a moment, and she understood that he meant his boys as well as Coraline's.

Oh, she thought tiredly. Thankfully, neither Emily nor her mother (thank God, because it was a probable possibility) ushered her out after the two men.

"Can I help?" she blurted out, just in case her mother was simply late in reacting.

Emily nodded towards the table in the middle of the kitchen. A cutting board and knife had been set out next to a heap of vegetables.

"Do you want to cut those up for the salad?"

Penelope voiced the affirmative and sat down on one of the chairs at the table to work.

"So, Penelope," Emily began, turning her head from the humongous pot of potatoes she was mashing. "Now that you're old enough to decide, do you like to be called Penelope or Pen? I know your dad calls you Pen."

Penelope liked how Emily referred to Brady as her father without hesitation. Some part of her hated when people called into question Brady's love and loyalty to her by asking how she felt about her "step-father".

"I don't mind, really," Pen expressed, slicing through a cucumber. "Penelope is rather long though."

"But it's so beautiful," Coraline gushed from her place by the sink. She was rinsing a bunch of cooking utensils. "Penelope - it always makes me think of spring and summer."

"That's Persephone, mother," Pen grunted humorously and Emily laughed.

"Suit yourself," Cora grumbled just as jokingly. "If you want to be named after a writing utensil, be my guest."

"I think Pen is cute," Emily said decidedly and Penelope shot a victorious smirk at Coraline. "I like that it's a little more tomboyish, especially because Penelope is so girly - in a good way," she clarified for Coraline's benefit.

"My sentiments exactly," Pen said, pushing aside the pile of cucumber slices and reaching for a handful of tomatoes. "Do you want these tomatoes halved or quartered?"

"Whatever you prefer, dear. My boys aren't too friendly with them."

"I love tomatoes," Pen said under her breath. "Do you mind if I leave them whole? I like to bite into them," she smiled sheepishly.

"Go right ahead," Emily said and turned to Coraline to discuss some new kitchen appliance that Kim Cameron had recently purchased.

Penelope chopped her veggies in peace for a while, enjoying the warmth and light in the kitchen, and the gentle sounds of the women talking. From her chair, she could see outside through the glass door. However, the glass was textured and she couldn't quite make out which shape was Brady and which was Sam. Well, that was until the one closer to the house straightened up.

That would be Sam, Penelope thought. A couple bodies sprinted past the grills and Penelope almost dropped her knife. They were far too big to be the Uley boys, even if they were Sam's sons. Even if they were as tall, surely they weren't as broad as their father. Normal 18 to 19 year old boys went through height growth spurts and put on muscle, she knew. But…

"Pen, you must be exhausted. When did your flight get in this morning?"

I'm exhausted. Yes, that must be it.

"We landed about 6:30 this morning."

"We were in the car by 6:30," Coraline corrected. "And with your goodbye party last night, you've been up for quite a while."

Pen could only nod.

"Well, why don't you run outside and meet the boys? The fresh air might wake you up a little."

What?! Emily was supposed to be on her side! Pen masked her reluctance quickly when Emily turned around to see her.

"Okay," Penelope said softly. She hopped off her chair and made for the door, feeling her stomach twist around itself with anxiety. It had to happen some time or later, Penelope tried to reason. She couldn't just sit there with the moms forever.

"Penelope, wait," Coraline called out. "Take these out for Sam and Brady."

She held out three large-sized Ziploc bags, containing marinated pork. Penelope took them gratefully, and partially despised the understanding she saw in her mother's eyes when she did so. Damn her mother for knowing her and her shyness so well. "Go get 'em," Coraline whispered and grinned a grin that Penelope often saw stretching her brothers' faces.

Taking the time to give her mother a lighthearted sneer in response, she inhaled and pushed the glass door open.


	5. Chapter 5

It really wasn't all that cold outside. Sure, if she had dressed in shorts and a tank top she'd be a little chilly, but she hadn't, and she found the breeze pleasant in her current state. Taking care not to glance around too much, Penelope made for the two grills that had been set up on a patio not far away. Brady saw her first and jerked his chin up and rocked back on his heels in greeting.

"Are those for us?" he asked when she was close enough.

"Yup," she answered and handed the three bags over. "How many people are going to be eating with us?" she asked, partially as a jest, in reference to the overwhelming number of pork chops in each Ziploc.

"Well, we've got the five of us," Brady began, "and the four of you."

"Pace is out on business at the moment," Sam explained when Penelope's brow wrinkled in confusion.

Well, there goes my support.

"Oh," she managed, still not understanding why they needed roughly twenty chops for nine people. Her pondering was interrupted, though, by the shrill cries of two nearby gremlins.

"PEN!" She whipped around, and found them hurtling towards her at great speeds. Toby had a football clutched to his chest. They were probably just playing around, but a shiver ran down her spine nonetheless.

"Pen! He's gonna' get us!"

"Save us Pen! AAAAHHHHHHH!"

Maybe they weren't playing. Pen let out an involuntary screech when a large figure burst from the trees and came straight at the fleeing twins.

"GIVE - ME - MY - BALL!" it roared, gaining ground rapidly. Pen stood stock still. She didn't know what to do. Her sleepy brain couldn't process whether the boys were playing and this figure was one of the Uley boys or whether a psycho killer was currently running down her little brothers. It would occur to her later that, as neither of the fathers behind her moved a muscle, the latter theory was highly improbable. However, before this thought could occur, a second figure streaked out from around the other side of the house. Before Pen could scream, twitch or blink, it had bent down and scooped up both twins.

"Finders keepers, bro," the second figure called back, and Pen heard the distinct sound of the twins' maniacal giggling. "Besides, you throw like a girl!"

With another roar, though Pen wasn't sure who it came from, the two runners crashed into each other, and went tumbling to the ground.

"Boys, watch the twins."

Sam's order had been preceded by a moment of dead silence, and it startled Pen more than it should have. The whole thing had taken place so quickly, and so unusually, that she didn't know what to make of it. Someone in the heap of bodies groaned loudly.

"Gremlins! Are you okay?" Pen yelled, trying to gather her wits. Another groan rang out before one of the huge bodies on the ground rolled over and opened his arms. Two familiar shaggy heads popped up.

"That was awesome! Do it again!" That was Toby.

"Do it again! Do it again!" and that was Tommy. Pen sighed, and she heard Brady chuckling.

"Nate, you moron. You ran into my chest!" This was followed by an exaggerated "awww." Nate stood up and brushed himself off. Now that he wasn't running at superhuman speeds, Pen recognized his face.

"Sorry about your boobs, man," Nate grinned and reached down to help the other figure up. "But'cha called me a girl."

"I said you throw like a girl," the second guy, who Pen now recognized as Liam Uley, corrected, brushing himself off as well. "Hell, you let the munchkins intercept!"

"Language, boys," Sam's low voice barked out a second time. Liam muttered a quick "sorry" and reached down to ruffle a twin's hair. He almost had to bend lower to reach the kid's head. Pen dismissed her earlier evaluation of "normal boys" their age. The Uley brothers were enormous, just like their father.

"Good catch, munchkin," Liam said, and Tommy cackled, reaching up to hold on to Liam's huge hand. Pen felt a prick of annoyance. Tommy hated it when she messed with his hair.

"Liam, Nate, come say hi to Penelope!" Emily had opened the kitchen door enough to stick her head out. Both Uleys turned their heads in the direction of Penelope and the chatting fathers. She lowered her eyes a little, and found her brothers trotting towards her. Emily must have been joking more seriously than Penelope had realized when she'd commented on how much Pen had grown. Her boys were like new people. 10-year old Nate and 11-year old Liam had been tall for their age, but scrawny - all legs and arms. 18-year old Nate and 19-year old Liam looked at least over twenty.

"Pen, did you see that?"

"Did you see, Pen, did you see? We went flying!" The twins had made it to her side.

"I saw," Pen confirmed, trying not to look disturbed. "You two scared me for a minute there."

The twins giggled and grinned victoriously. At the sound of a scuffle, Penelope looked up in the Uley brothers' direction. Nate was chortling evilly (much like the twins were) and Liam was glaring, looking anything but amused. It took Pen a minute to realize that the ball was nowhere in sight.

"Boys! Dinner's ready! Come and get washed up," Emily called out from the kitchen. "Oh, Penelope too! Sorry dear."

Six ears had perked up at the sound of "dinner", and now Liam was looking absolutely furious with his brother.

"You go get it."

"You threw it."

"Admit I don't throw like a girl and I might."

"Go get it, stupid."

"You asked for it."

"Suck it up, Nate, and go get my goddamn ball."

"I said watch your language, boy. Go get the ball, and then come inside to wash up." Sam's authoritative bark settled the matter, and after exchanging a glare and a smirk, the brothers parted ways, Liam out towards the trees at the far end of the yard, and Nate towards the house.

"Hey Penelope," the latter said amiably. Pen put a smile on her face and took his hand.

"Hey Nate."

"I think you're still the same height you were when we were ten," he joked, as they made their way into the kitchen.

"Ha!" Pen snorted. "Yeah, like you haven't turned into a skyscraper."

Nate laughed.

"Nate, where's your brother?"

"Getting the ball," Nate informed his mother, with a little too much enthusiasm. Emily hummed suspiciously.

"Go clean up upstairs," she ordered. "I want to see clean hands, brushed hair and a nice shirt."

"Yes ma'am."

Nate was soon followed by Liam, who, after receiving the same directions from Emily, made for the upper level of the house. Penelope tried not to chuckle at the various thumps and exclamations heard from upstairs as she washed her hands in the sink. Emily rolled her eyes affectionately and continued to set the table.

"The key is to call them in to dinner about five minutes early," she informed them all knowingly. "If you don't, the food is cold by the time they get themselves sorted out. Plus, if they're early, they have no excuse but to help out."

"That's marvelous," Coraline mused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. Penelope laughed, and muttered a quick prayer for the twins. The boys in question came tramping through the door moments later, followed by Sam, Brady and the pork chops.

"Wash your hands gremlins," Pen chided softly when Tommy and Toby made a mad dash for the table. Emily directed them to the bathroom down the hall, and Pen stood sentinel to make sure that they used soap and hot water.

The Uley boys were at the table when she returned with the twins. Brady had settled himself into the seat opposite Sam, at the end of the table, and Coraline was, of course, next to him, opposite Liam Uley. Penelope ushered the little boys into the two seats next to her mother and took the third for herself. Emily set a large salad bowl in the middle and took her seat opposite Penelope. She offered a smile to her husband, and to Penelope.

"Have some food," Emily said, and though Penelope found it strange that she didn't extend the offer to the rest of the table, she complied. "Coraline, go ahead, before the frenzy starts."

When her mother, her brothers, Emily and herself had pork chops, potatoes and salad on their plates, Emily gave a gentle nod of her head.

My, she really did mean frenzy, didn't she? Pen thought as she watched the remaining food on the table disappear.

It was at a point sometime later, at 6:37 or 6:35 that Penelope, fighting sleep once again, found herself being gaped at by Liam Uley.

The microwave blinked. It was now 6:38. The wall clock ticked - 6:36. Emily gasped out loud.

"Liam! What do you think you're doing?"

There was a moment of absolute silence, during which Liam managed to close his mouth, only to begin coughing loudly, teary eyes still straining to focus on Penelope's face. A noise that Pen could define only as a feral growl was issued from her father's end of the table, and when she tore her eyes away from the choking Liam, she found that Brady had risen from his seat. The snarl on his face looked too vicious to be caused by worry for Liam's health. But she didn't have much time to contemplate her father's unusual anger, because Sam had also stood up. He yanked Liam up from the table with more ease than seemed possible, and dragged him out of the kitchen.

"I'll take him upstairs and make sure he's okay," Sam called back, but the door that slammed sounded suspiciously like the front door. Nate was looking Penelope over with a critical eye, and Emily seemed to be trying to suppress a smile.

"Brady," Coraline breathed. Penelope glanced over. Brady was breathing more heavily than usual and something about his eyes seemed to have changed. But the fierce glare had disappeared.

"I think we should go," Brady said quietly.

"Brady," Coraline hissed again, taking hold of his wrist.

"Don't worry about it, Cora," Emily interrupted, standing up. The smile on her face was very peaceful and calm. Penelope was impressed. "I'll wrap up a few brownies for you to take with you. I'm sure Penelope is almost dead on her feet. Your little ones must be worn out too."

The twins looked themselves over.

"Playing with the big boys is tiring, isn't it?" Emily chuckled, as she began to clear the table. Penelope rose quickly to help her. "I'm sure Liam and Nate are sleepy too."

"Oh, I'm beat," Nate agreed, and as he stood, he gasped his lower back for effect. "Liam's so tired he forgot to chew his food!" The little boys giggled, and the tension was temporarily diffused. Emily and Penelope finished with the dishes quickly. Coraline never let go of Brady's hand. At some point, Nate asked to be excused and what was definitely the front door slammed behind him.

Penelope sat in the dark car silently as the boys buckled themselves up. Emily was speaking quietly and quickly to Brady, although Cora stood solidly at his side. Her father's snarling face kept surfacing in Penelope's mind's eye, but she pushed it away each time, preferring to focus on how cool it had gotten, the little quips and comments of her brothers on either side of her, and the front passenger seat that had been pushed back as far as it would go to make space for Brady's legs.

Her parents loaded themselves into the car, and Coraline pulled away from the Uley house. The ride home was completely silent. Even the twins knew better than to disturb the mounting tension.


	6. Chapter 6

Penelope fell asleep quickly that night, but dreamt constantly. She woke very early the next morning feeling distinctly that she hadn't slept well. Her wall clock read 5:53AM. She contemplated going back to sleep but her mind rebelled, and she found herself padding as quietly as she could down to the basement.

She had to stand on the piano bench to reach the windows, but once she opened them, a pleasantly cool breeze circulated around the room. Penelope plopped back down on the bench and pushed the power button on the side of the keyboard, simultaneously pulling the lid up. She'd forgotten to bring her headphones so she turned the volume dial down very low before beginning to play.

Pen had taken lessons during the first five years that she'd been with her grandparents, but had discontinued them afterwards. Her schedule had become increasingly busy with her academics as she advanced in high school, and she found that the lessons no longer gave her the enjoyment they had before. Her grandparents were generous in their funding of sheet music, and Penelope greatly enjoyed learning the songs she heard in movies and plays. The task most often did not require the aid of an instructor and Penelope could practice whenever her schedule allowed.

She let her fingers run over the keys for a minute before going through some basic scales to warm her fingers up. The piece she'd most recently learned came easily to her, and Pen found herself running through it over and over, faster and then slower, experimenting with the crescendos and decrescendos. The task was absorbing, utterly. She didn't have to think about the snarl she'd seen on her father's face the night before, or the strange reactions of the Uley family to Liam's choking. She knew at some point or another she'd have to examine it all and make sense of it, but she was determined to put it off, at least for today. She pushed her fingers faster in order to regain focus.

The light coming in through the high windows above her increased in strength as the morning progressed. Hunger was beginning to divert her attention, and Penelope knew that the rest of her family would be waking soon. She estimated that she'd been playing for a little over an hour. The twins usually woke up around 7:00 or 7:30. She slowed the pace of her fingers and drifted off into Pachelbel's "Canon in D", which nearly always soothed whatever stress she was bundling up.

She ran through the piece, drawing it out by repeating certain sections that pleased her, until she heard little feet tramping down the stairs above her head. Her stomach grumbled and she pulled the lid down over the keys, taking care to remember to power off the keyboard. Once at the foot of the stairs, she stood for a moment, listening to the dull mumble of voices from the upper floors. Her parents were up. Despite her empty stomach, Pen found herself dropping down against the wall. The basement was colder than the rest of the house, but the stairs were carpeted and soft.

The boys were easy to track around the house. Their footsteps were quick and erratic and usually the loudest, because there were two of them. Her mother was harder to trace by the sound of her footsteps because she wore slippers and, to be honest, didn't move around that much in the morning. But Penelope could hear her clanging around in the kitchen, opening the fridge, knocking cabinet doors together, setting out plastic cups for the boys. Brady was usually quite light on his feet, which was surprising for a man of his size. However, this morning, he seemed to stomp down the stairs and into the kitchen with slow, heavy footsteps. Penelope didn't think he was angry, but maybe really tired. Had he not slept well? She stood and ascended the rest of the stairs, opening the basement door carefully, so as to avoid smacking it into someone.

The boys were sitting in the living room, watching cartoons on the television. Her mother hadn't slept well then, either, Pen gathered. The boys usually only watched TV on the weekends or when her mother was too sick or tired to dissuade them from it. The kitchen was silent when she entered. Brady was sitting at the kitchen table, looking out the window into the trees with heavy, blank eyes. He gave a small huff of acknowledgement when she squeezed his shoulder and kissed his head. Coraline didn't look much better. She was leaning on the kitchen counter, tapping her fingers endlessly against her coffee cup - a familiar habit when she was deep in thought.

"Morning," Penelope tried, pouring herself a glass of cranberry juice. The lackluster reply she received was enough to chase away the hunger she felt. So she snatched an apple from the counter, a knife from the drawer and made for the living room. At least the twins could form full sentences. "Morning, gremlins," she called to them, sinking down to the ground by the coffee table. Tommy smiled around his peanut butter toast.

"Guh'mornin'," Toby filled in for him, waving his own piece of toast around.

"Hey, watch it, buster," Penelope warned and dodged the little toast-filled fist. She halved the apple slowly, paused to watch the TV screen for a moment, and then quartered it. "Hey, boys, did you go sleep with Mom and Dad last night?" she asked quietly, scooping the seeds and core from the apple quarters. Toby, whose mouth was now full of toast and peanut butter, nodded absently. Tommy remained transfixed on the cartoon they were watching. "Did they sleep okay?"

"Mommy was - was already awake," Toby managed after swallowing. Penelope nodded. That fit with her assumption. She bit into one of the apple pieces.

"But Daddy wasn't there," Tommy finished. He'd broken away from the TV to steal a gulp of Pen's cranberry juice.

"Well, where was he?" Pen asked, snatching the cup back.

"Maybe he was going potty," Tommy retaliated. Penelope rolled her eyes and leaned back against the couch behind her. Why did the boys even watch these shows? The shapes on the screen were anything but interesting, and their lines were cheesy at best. Her internal grumbling was interrupted by Toby, who'd begun to giggle quietly.

"What?" Tommy pried, reaching out to touch his brother's arm. "What's so funny?"

"Daddy must've had to pee a lot," Toby tittered, "because he was gone a long time."

Tommy joined in with cackles of his own, rolling back against Penelope's side. She found herself grinning at their silliness, but couldn't help but find Toby's observation a little weird. Instinctively, she craned her neck around towards the kitchen. She caught Brady's eye just before he shuffled the paper he appeared to be reading and looked away.

He hadn't heard her, had he? It was a small house, after all. She hadn't meant to sound so suspicious. Penelope rose up to put her dishes away.

Brady smiled passively at her when she re-entered the kitchen. She returned the gesture, but turned around only to watch her mother glance away quickly. Silence stretched on and on, as Penelope turned the sink faucet on to rinse her cup and the knife. Suddenly, she found herself laughing.

Liam Uley had jumped to the forefront of her mind, jaw hung open, potatoes on display. From there, it only got worse. Toby's potty joke was becoming funnier and funnier by the second, and the feeling that her parents were in on some big conspiracy around the house was just so ridiculous, so unfathomable, that it all had to have been made up as a result of her own stress. When she turned around from the sink, both her mother and father were watching her fondly. Neither of them refused to meet her eyes this time.

"We missed you Pen," Brady chuckled. The look she'd seen in his eye earlier had vanished.

"Penelope," her mother crooned, and pulled her in for a hug. "I heard you playing this morning when I got up. You sounded good."

Penelope murmured a soft "thanks".

"You've grown so much," Coraline continued. "Just look at the way you carry yourself."

"Yeah, you're not allowed to get any prettier," Brady grouched, picking the paper up again. "Or I'll have to go get the shotgun."

Well, that set her off again and Pen only managed to stifle her giggles when her mother expressed the need to run to the store.

"Again?" Penelope inquired.

"Well, in our haste to get home and see you, the boys and I forgot to buy supplies for dinner," Coraline explained honestly. "Come on, come with me. You can drive."

Shortly afterwards, Penelope found herself turning into the little supermarket she remembered being driven to in her childhood.

"Wow, this place has not changed," Penelope mused as they walked in. Coraline chuckled and gave her a sticky note shopping list.

"You take the first half and I'll take the second," her mother said, and with a brief salute, Penelope set off to find a grocery basket and lunch meat.

The grocery baskets were up by the cashiers, and she found the lunch meat all the way in the back, by the drinks cooler. The little packets of sliced meat were stacked nicely from the bottom to the top shelf. Penelope deliberated. In California, she'd always bought roast beef from the deli. It was a little more expensive, maybe, but so very tasty. All they had here was various types of ham and turkey slices. Tommy and Toby liked turkey. But everyone liked ham, didn't they? She stepped back away from the cooler and into whoever had been standing behind her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed smartly, and jumped forward again. "I'm so sorry!"

"Hey, it's alright."

Penelope swiveled around. "Liam?"

He grinned feebly. "Hey Pen. I didn't think I'd see you here."

"Oh? Why not?" she asked, and couldn't help smiling as the word potatoes ran through her mind. Liam looked lost for a moment.

"Er," he shrugged and jerked his chin towards the lunch meat cooler. "What are you looking for?"

Penelope chuckled again and turned back to the cooler. "Well, I have to get lunch meat, but I don't know whether to get ham or turkey."

"Hmm," Liam said and stuck his hands down into the pockets of his khaki cargo shorts. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a yellow stencil graphic of a garden gnome on it. Beside the gnome the words "Say hello to my Little Friend" were spelled out, also in yellow.

"Nice t-shirt," she said, eyeing it appreciatively. Liam grinned, and Penelope suddenly realized that it looked like she'd been checking him out. Liam gave a quick chuckle, and then turned to face the cooler.

"I'd say ham," he decided. Pen hummed in agreement, thankful that he hadn't commented further on the shirt incident. It was baggy and rather shapeless, even on Liam, but she'd noticed the sheer thickness of his arms, extending beyond the short sleeves of the t-shirt.

"Ham it is," Pen said quickly. "Now, which one do I choose?" The cooler was loaded with different types of sliced ham: smoked, honeyed, plain, peppered. "I think I like honeyed ham," she mused, mostly to herself.

"Well, I know just the one then," Liam said, and reached up over her head to pull down a yellow package of ham.

"This one?" Penelope asked, looking over the packaging. Liam grunted.

"Best damn pig I've ever eaten," he stated, and got her laughing again.

"I'll take your word for it," she said through her giggles. Liam grinned back easily.

"Hey, Liam, what did mom want us to get?" Nate rounded the corner behind Liam but stopped short when he saw them both. A toothy smile spread Nate's lips, and despite Liam planting himself deliberately in the way, leaned around his brother's taller body to greet Penelope. "Hi'ya Pen!"

"Hi Nate!" she smiled back.

Glancing back and forth between Liam and Penelope, Nate continued. "How are you feeling?"

"Great. Yourself?"

"Fine, fine," Nate said, this time stepping around Liam to sidle up by her. "How'd you sleep?"

Penelope raised an eyebrow. Directly behind Nate, Liam was balling up his fists and scowling. "Fine," she answered briefly. She was trying not to laugh at Nate's antics and Liam's over-reactions.

"Oh, that's good," Nate elaborated, "because we were up for ages. These wolves were howling all night - drove us crazy! It's too bad, really, because some of us really needed that good night's sleep."

Nate dropped his jaw and crossed his eyes in an exaggerated imitation of Liam the night before. Pen laughed, but sensed that Liam was no longer amused, even slightly.

"I'm surprised he's the one who choked first," she mused, "what with the way you were shoveling down food."

"Ah-ha," Nate crooned, and took a step back. "She's all yours, bro," he said, motioning Liam closer with the sweep of his arm.

Penelope could have sworn that the noise that issued from Liam's mouth was the same growl that had leaked from behind her father's teeth last night, but before she could ponder this any further, her mother came around the corner.

"Liam! What a surprise!" Coraline called and patted him on the shoulder. "It's good to see you alive and well."

"Oh, I forgot to ask," Penelope realized hurriedly. "Is your throat okay? If I remember correctly, that was a big wad of potatoes you got stuck on."

She half expected him to glare at her too after the look he'd given Nate. But Liam only smiled sheepishly, and scratched the back of his head.

"Sorry about that," he said, and she realized that once again, he was making a point of looking straight into her eyes. "And thank you - I'm alright now."

"Healthy as a dog," Nate supplied. He seemed to be intensely interested in a box of cereal when they all turned to look at him.

"Uh, I think you mean 'healthy as a horse'," Penelope murmured timidly, "as opposed to 'sick as a dog'."

"Hm?" Nate looked up blankly. Penelope could only blink. Strange child…

"Well, it was great see you again, Mrs. Fuller," Liam interrupted, cutting through the silence. "Give Brady - I mean Mr. Fuller my regards."

Coraline took the hand he offered. "I'll do that, Liam, and don't worry. I think we'll be seeing more of you in the near future."

Penelope bit down on her tongue. It took her a second to see the hand that Liam had extended in her direction. He was doing his kooky staring thing again. She hesitated before offering her right hand.

"Thanks for the help," she said, as casually as she could. Liam's fingers had closed almost completely around her own. She could feel the calluses on his palm and fingertips. She gave him her usual firm handshake - let it be known that no daughter of Brady Fuller would ever give anyone the ol' limp-fish handshake - and stepped back.

"Anytime," Liam said simply, and stuffed his hands back into his pockets.

"I figured that you'd gotten hung up somewhere," Coraline was saying, and she took Penelope's elbow gently, "so I went ahead and got the rest of what we needed."

"Oh," Penelope stuttered, and let her mother lead her to the checkout counter. They paid for their goods and loaded them into the trunk of the car. When Penelope slumped into the front passenger seat, Coraline took the driver's seat without question.

"He's a nice boy, isn't he?" her mother said, and Penelope raised her eyebrows.

"Sure."

"Sure?"

"He stares too much." And his hands were hot like Brady's.

"Oh-ho, honey," Coraline giggled. "That just means he likes you."

"Mom, don't start," Penelope pouted.

"Oh, Penelope," Coraline scolded, taking her eyes off the road for a moment to give her daughter an exasperated look.

"Mother don't do this to me right now. It's my second day back home. I don't want or need a boyfriend."

"Alright, fine," Coraline looked back towards the road. Penelope took one look at the affronted look on her mother's face and slumped even farther down in the seat with a groan.

Eyes fixed on the passing trees out her window, Penelope missed the single, small smile her mother allowed herself as they drove along.


	7. Chapter 7

The air was still and thick as Liam and Nate left the super market and made for the nearest line of trees. Liam had his hands in his pockets and his eyes glued to the ground passing beneath his feet. It was the only way he could think of to restrain himself. He didn't even know what he was restraining himself from, but it was taking all he had to keep the smile from his face. He checked his pace and lengthened his strides - a slow, easy gait would befit a man unaffected by his surroundings, wouldn't it?

Nate sniggered, and Liam rounded on him.

"What?"

Nate raised his palms in a pacifying manner. "Nothing, man." But his grinning expression was heavy with _something_, and Liam scowled. Stepping into the forest, the brothers made for a clump of closely clustered trees, tugging shirts and shoes off as they went. Moments later, they set off towards the Uley household at a brisk four-legged lope.

Liam was still restraining himself, holding his thoughts in from the lightly probing fingers of Nate's. He made sure to take in every scent he smelled, and tried to identify every noise he heard. Crow. Squirrel - no, chipmunk. Fox. Car.

_So, Penelope's quite a catch, isn't she?_ Nate said smoothly, and Liam felt his thoughts ballooning out, all mental snapshots he'd taken of her when she talked or smiled or pondered over which kind of ham to buy, and the occasional sound bite; her laughter, her words when she'd asked about his throat. So many thoughts and feelings exploded that Liam nearly stopped running. He reigned them all back in in time to hear Nate giggling again.

_Shut up, asshole._

Nate did not shut up. _Oh, the guys are going to love this! You're just like Pace!_

_I am not_, Liam barked and slammed into his brother's shoulder with all his weight. _And I said, shut up asshole!_

The larger of the two, Nate just bounced back and pushed his older brother into a tree. Liam snarled viciously, startling a handful of birds from their perches, and gave chase. Nate may have been bigger, but Liam was faster than both his brothers and more agile than any of the wolves in the La Push pack. In no time, he was streaking along at Nate's side, taking every opportunity to push his heavier brother into any and all obstacles.

A football game was underway in their backyard when the two younger Uley brothers came tumbling through the trees, yanking shorts on as they came. Immediately, the game was put on hold, and Liam allowed himself a groan before he was tackled by six heavy bodies (Nate's included, of course).

"Mornin', Liam," Luke Clearwater sang before digging an elbow into his twin's side. Harry, who had tossed himself onto the pile last, and therefore directly onto his brother, grunted.

"And what a morning it is," he continued after getting his breath back. Nate was still sniggering somewhere, and Liam swung a fist out at the noise. It connected with what felt like the back of a skull and Max Cameron wailed.

"Hey!" His protests were drowned however, as was Liam's feeble apology.

"What's this we're hearing about a new imprint, eh Liam?" Zach Lahote bellowed out, shoving through the dog pile to find Liam. They all got to their feet and closed in around him, like dogs sniffing out a foreign scent. Liam sneered as best he could.

"Who is it, Liam?"

"Is she hot?"

"Do we know her? Who is it?"

"Come on, Liam!"

"It's Penelope Jones." That was Nate - of course. After a moment of dead silence, the pack broke out in various "oooh's" and "aaah's" that Liam did his best to bat away.

"I didn't even know she was back," Simon Call voiced thoughtfully. The pack agreed. "How is she?"

"Fine," Liam grunted, a little defensively. "I've only seen her twice."

"Well, you know what they say, once is all it takes," Zach said cheekily. Liam glared when his pack brothers all grinned and sniggered.

"Look, shut it, all'a you. She doesn't change anything. I'm still the same. And I'm not going to be whipped like Pace," he huffed, singling Nate out with his eyes.

"Liam, we're not criticizing," Simon promised, but Liam barely heard it.

"Don't you all have things to do? Leave me alone," he barked, and stormed off towards the house, muttering something about getting to work on time.


	8. Chapter 8

"So, Liam! I hear somebody's seen the light!" Jacob thumped a hand down on Liam's back and the younger man gritted his teeth.

"Not you too," he mumbled, and rubbed at his head. Jacob raised an eyebrow, but Liam waved him away and threw himself down onto the cement ground of the garage to wiggle under a car.

"Heeeey!" Quil Ateara came bounding out from the office. Judging by his quick descent into silence, Liam guessed that Jacob had shushed him.

"Gimme' that wrench," Liam said, reaching a hand out. The tool was dropped into his palm moments later. Pen had nice hands. He liked her handshake.

"Mornin' Liam."

"Mornin' Quil."

They were all quiet for a moment except for the metallic clinks as they worked on the dilapidated vehicle.

"Liam, you alright, man?" Quil finally asked. Liam heard Jacob shift in interest, and turned his focus back to the underbelly of the car.

"Fine."

"Oh good, 'cause I was just a little curious, you know, with you being so grumpy on what is technically the best day of your life and all."

"Technically," Liam echoed.

"Well, I mean, there are better days, but you're a little young to be experiencing them at this point."

Liam snorted.

"How was it, kid?" Jacob asked, working under the open hood.

"Yeah, what was it like for you?" Quil asked. Liam felt his lip curl.

"I choked on mashed potatoes."

He didn't blame them for laughing. He allowed himself a few chuckles too, in fact. Pen had been very good about it all in the end. She'd worried about him.

"Aw man!" Quil laughed, holding his stomach. "When are you seeing her?"

"Meaning?"

"Come on, Liam. When are you seeing her again? She lives nearby, right? Don't tell me you don't already have a date set up. There's a bonfire this weekend. You're all set. Plus, from what I hear, you two knew each other as kids."

Liam laughed again. "I pulled her hair and chased her around the block a few times, yeah. It's not much of a romantic history."

"So you're seeing her today, right?"

"I'm working today." Liam pulled himself out from under the car.

"You're funny, kid," Quil snickered, messing with an old radio. Liam didn't respond. A metal instrument dropped to the ground.

"Are you serious?" Jacob asked. Liam shrugged, ignoring their imploring looks. "You know I'll let you off work on the day you find your soul mate."

"I'm not asking for a day off," Liam said, still ignoring their eyes, and sat down at a work bench covered in wiring. "And I imprinted last night. It's not that big of a deal."

There was no further chatter. Needless to say, the rest of the day (until three o'clock, when Jacob quite literally kicked him out of the shop) was awkward.

Once again, as Liam trudged down the road, sneakers scraping against the asphalt, he felt like he had to restrain himself. All things considered, it wasn't all that hard to do. Over the years, Liam had taught himself to hide his thoughts and feelings from his brothers and parents very, very well. Keeping Penelope Jones from his mind was nothing too hard. Every day people found their soul mates, and they didn't have to be utterly consumed. Why did he? Already, he felt the absence of her creeping up through his chest.

What he needed to do was keep busy. He whipped his shirt off and threaded it through a belt loop before taking off at a quick jog down the road. He couldn't hope to best Davey, Leah Clearwater's adopted son, in speed, or Zach Lahote or his brother Pace in strength, but Liam could run forever without stopping and it was an ability he was determined to preserve for as long as possible. He took the long way around through a few outcroppings of forest to get to his father's new work site.

The Uley Construction unit had been commissioned several weeks ago to renovate an old house entirely, and they'd been hard at work ever since. While Liam usually enjoyed working with Jake in the garage, there was something very satisfying about working with his father and the rest of the pack to rebuild or create. The manual labor was suitably exhausting, especially when he was as conflicted as he was presently. When he reached the site, he headed straight for his father, the largest shape lumbering through the yard.

"Dad, gimme' something to do," he hollered out, trying to sound good-natured and agreeable. Sam turned to eye his son.

"What are you doing here?"

Several of Liam's pack brothers had also stopped working to watch him.

Liam shrugged. "I'm free. Felt like working."

"Dude, you and Ms. Jones already on the rocks?" Harry Clearwater bellowed out. Liam rounded on him fast, a snarl ripping up his throat and out his mouth.

"Is that all you can think about?" A heavy hand landed on Liam's shoulder and his father swung him around, away from the watching pack.

"Calm down, boy," Sam grunted. He nudged Liam towards a pile of planks. "Pick those up. Follow me."

Wordlessly, Liam obeyed. He didn't know why he was so angry. He didn't know why he so desperately wanted to remember what Penelope's laugh sounded like. He didn't know why he was so frightened by the prospect of remembering such a thing.

They'd reached the opposite end of the house that faced a cluster of trees.

"Here," Sam barked, and pointed to a spot in the grass. Liam deposited his load and stood at the ready. "Jake called."

Liam suppressed a groan.

"Said you went through three orders for auto fixes in two hours, as well as finished the wiring in the Chevy."

Liam kicked at a tuft of grass, fists jammed into his pockets.

"What's going on with you? None of the other boys took imprinting this way," said Sam, and he watched his son's face carefully. "Aren't you the least bit happy?"

No sounds came from the other side of the house. The other workers had stopped, no doubt to listen in on the conversation. Liam took his time in considering the question. He didn't know what to say.

"Head home, Liam," Sam ordered quietly. "Get some rest. Then go see Pen. It'll make you feel better."

Liam scoffed. "How is she going to change me so much?"

He didn't stay to hear his father's opinion. He knew it would be the same thing he'd been hearing all day long. She'd make him feel better, even though she'd been an absent figure in his life for eight years; even though he'd only seen her twice since her return. She, the ambiguous she, would make him feel better. She would transform him into a figure as huge and respectable as his eldest brother.

Well, he wasn't made of the same metal that Pace was, and no matter how many chicks he imprinted on, he would never measure up to such a height.


	9. Chapter 9

Penelope danced in front of him, twirling and whirling around him, smiling brightly at him. He watched her cheeks dimple just slightly, and marveled at the color of her eyes, which were perfectly round and focused on him. Her hair bounced lightly as she moved, covering her pretty eyes now and then, shifting to reveal a shoulder or collar bone. She danced around him, away from his hands, but always in range. Her laughter echoed through the air.

"Liam, I -" she whispered.

He wanted to feel her warmth, but his hands were stuck in his pockets, and he couldn't reach out. She brushed up against him right under his chin, like a cat looking for attention. The slide of her skin against his was comforting. His pockets were too small for his hands. He couldn't get them out.

"Liam, I -"

How long would she wait for him to reach out? She danced closer and closer now, asking for him with her eyes. He was struggling against the material of his shorts - would they rip? They couldn't rip. She couldn't know about his other form, not yet at least. It would frighten her. He couldn't lose her, not before he even got to touch her. So, should he struggle or not? His hands were still stuck.

"Liam, I!"

God, why couldn't he move? He strained furiously against his constraints, uncaring of the consequences. She wouldn't mind. She wouldn't be too frightened. It was only him - just in a different form. She wouldn't mind.

And then he ripped apart. He was down on four legs. And she was swooping down (why was she taller?) to sling her arms around his neck and kiss his wet nose.

"Liam," she whispered, and everything stopped swirling and whirling. His muscles relaxed as he leaned into her all-encompassing embrace. Her warmth spread down his body and held him peacefully, until he took it all in again, and it was he who was wrapped around her, cradling her little human body in the curve of his and keeping it warm with his thick fur. He exhaled. She was holding him. He was holding her. She was his. He was hers. Either way, he was warm and comfortable. And so was she.

Emily Uley poked her head around the door of her second son's room, half expecting to see a raging, oversized wolf standing in the middle of wreckage. Instead, her eyes fell upon an oversized boy, holding a pillow to his chest and breathing heavily. A white sheet had slid off the bed. Frayed threads poked out where it was ripped down the middle. Trying not to think about how many replacement household objects she'd be buying this week, Emily gathered it up under her arm, dragged the comforter up over her son's long body, and slipped from the room.


	10. Chapter 10

Mila Littlesea was a petite Native girl, a little taller than Penelope, but with the same athletic build. Her father, Collin Littlesea, was Brady's best friend in the whole wide world, besides Coraline. When the two of them got in a room together, Pen swore the nerd-level spiked. As a result, Penelope had developed a strong friendship with Mila when both of them were little girls, before Coraline had decided to send Penelope to middle and high school in California. Over the eight years that Penelope had been away, Mila had been the only friend that she'd been able to maintain a long-distance friendship with. Mila always wrote back, and like Pen, simply carried on giving friendly advice and input, even when many miles lay between them.

When Mila walked in through the front door of the Fuller household, about a week after Penelope's arrival, Pen knew immediately that they'd still have the same chemistry they'd discovered years ago.

"They remind me of gremlins," Mila had said, watching Tommy and Toby squabble over a plastic dump-truck.

"I know!" Pen had shrieked, and their fates as best friends were settled right then and there. They spent an hour or two catching up. Mila wanted to know what school had been like in California. Pen wanted to know all the latest gossip. She'd spent her childhood with most of the La Push kids and it was fascinating to hear how they'd all grown.

"Oh, yeah. Kate Cameron's engaged to Pace Uley now."

"Really? That's crazy," Penelope mused, leaning back against the headboard of her bed. Mila nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, he's head over heels for her. It happened all of the sudden too," she added. "One day last year Kate came back from a trip to Seattle with Mrs. Cameron, and bam! Pace was hooked."

They took a moment to think over the news.

"Remember when we all had crushes on him?" Pen said, smiling at the memory.

Mila snorted. "'Course I do. He bought us ice cream and gave us piggy back rides. We loved him."

"She never seemed all that interested," Pen said after a moment. She popped a grape into her mouth. "Kate, I mean."

"Well, Kate never seems all that interested about anything," Mila said decidedly, and also reached for the tray of snacks on Pen's bedspread. "I don't know. She looks pretty into him now."

Pen hummed in understanding. She chewed thoughtfully, and then giggled at a thought. "I told you about Liam's little episode last week, right?"

Mila grinned. "You sent me an email, but my dad had already told me about it."

"Your dad?"

"Yeah, I think he talked to yours."

"Huh. Anyways, without giving you any ideas, let me just say that both of the younger Uleys are looking fine."

"Without giving you any ideas, I'd have to agree whole heartedly."

"What happened?" Penelope asked, still giggling a little. Mila was too. She scrambled up by Pen on the bed.

"I have no idea. Puberty?"

"Bullshit - that's the best case of puberty I've ever seen! The twins better not hit it like that, or I'm going to be swatting girls away with a two-by-four."

Mila smothered her laughter in a pillow. "Okay, okay, so which one is nicer? Liam or Nate?"

Pen felt her tummy twist with giddiness. "Whaaaaat?"

"Come on, Pen. Tall and lean or big and beefy?"

"All four of those descriptors fit both of them. You're going to have to do better."

"Pen! You know what I mean."

"Aw, geez. I mean, they both look good, but Nate will always be a sort of little brother person. And he's got that really annoying laugh. And he's a punk."

"So Liam."

"I didn't say that."

"The question was either or and you picked either."

"I did no such thing. I just picked not or."

"Fine, fine. Be like that," Mila sniffed, stretched out along the bed. "I know the truth. I've seen it in your eyes."

This triggered another bout of hysterical giggles that only subsided when Cora came to let them know that Mrs. Littlesea had called to say that Mila was half an hour late for dinner.


	11. Chapter 11

Liam was running again, on two legs. He'd circled the reservation twice now. He'd go twice more at least. Embarrassment curled in his stomach. He'd never really turned on his pack mates like he had the day before. And over something as stupid as imprinting! Some of his brothers would go their whole lives without meeting their soul mates, and here he was throwing a fit because he had.

Liam cleared his throat loudly and spat.

Figments of a dream he'd had the night before were also swirling around in his head, adding to the general confusion he felt. A warm, satisfied feeling accompanied these figments. Penelope, he was sure. Penelope, Penelope, Penelope. He wanted to see her again. He wanted to avoid girly hissy fits like the one he'd thrown the day before. But he couldn't get over the… he couldn't even name it. What was it? Fear? He hated the imprint. It was something that happened to his older brother. Pace, serious, intelligent Pace, made the connections, found the love of his life and knew his own purpose all before the age of 25. Not Liam. Liam tromped around town with his boys, making noise and eating mountains of junk food.

He thought hard of a white wall in an effort to just stop contemplating. His head was spinning and he slowed to get his breathing back on track. He'd returned to the garage this morning to apologize to Jacob and Quil. Jacob was impressed, apparently, because he'd given Liam the day off after lunch, which was why he was currently running laps around the res. It was probably around 4:00 o'clock in the afternoon. He'd started around 3:30.

He reached out to touch the telephone pole that marked a lap as he ran past. That made three laps. He picked up the pace for his last rounds, only to slam straight into the body that stepped out of the trees in front of him. The impact sent him straight on his ass.

"Liam."

Liam glared impetuously, squinting up at his older brother.

"Why am I always looking up at you?" he asked, trying to be an annoying as possible. Pace only laughed and reached a hand down. Liam grasped it and hauled himself up.

"It's my shift. Run with me," Pace suggested. Liam followed him into the trees, only pausing for a moment to think of his two-legged run cut short. Once they'd made their change, they shot off along unmarked, but well-travelled paths that roughly followed the asphalt ones that Liam had been jogging on.

It's good to see you, Liam thought, and his emotions spilled over into the space between them, supporting the thought. He'd missed his brother during the short period of absence. Pace's own warm thoughts mingled back with his, and Liam settled into the easy silence, enjoying the sensation of running full tilt on four legs.

Pace's conscience was tinged with a hint of curiosity though. Liam detected it a few minutes into their run. He leapt up on a boulder and lunged off towards a small deer path, knowing his heavier brother would not be able to follow him exactly.

_Liam_, Pace warned.

_What?_

Pace was quiet, but his silence was heavy. He knew Liam was avoiding his curiosity, trying to goad him into a new train of thought. Liam let himself fall back along side Pace, hanging his head a little in a show of embarrassment.

_What's the problem?_ Pace thought, and an image of little Penelope, pigtails flying, ice cream smeared across her face and her grinning mouth, surfaced in his mind. _I don't see much to be pissed off about._

Liam huffed, and snapped at a rabbit booking it out of the area. _I'm not pissed off. Not anymore._

_You're upset. Your head is like a steel trap. I can hardly feel anything from you._

Pace was worried about him. Liam felt it spilling over, and he tried to extend his gratitude.

_What are you hiding?_ Pace thought. They came around a bend fast, and Liam took advantage of the moment spent steadying and stabilizing the pace by thinking over his answer.

_Is she really going to change me all that much?_

Pace was silent for a moment. Then, _Yes._

Liam felt the repulsion building in his stomach and his mind, and was quick to reconstruct the so-called steel trap around his thoughts before Pace caught wind of them. His head was beginning to ache. The yearning he felt for Penelope and the disgust he felt for the link that bound him to her created an unnatural, unhealthy tension that eked into his whole body.

_Liam?_

_I'm alright. Just thinking._

He felt Pace's unease and appreciated his older brother's attempt to keep the feeling to himself.

_Alright. Let me know if you need anything._

Liam sent bland feelings of agreement at his brother, tucked his head down, breathed the scents of the forest in deeply, and ran. Pine. Deer. Deer. Fox. Crow, dead. Squirrel. Car exhaust. Campfire smoke.


	12. Chapter 12

Liam skipped dinner. His shift with Pace ended right before his mother called them in for food. Liam didn't even change back. He just kept running. He felt the presence of two other brothers coming on duty, but they made no attempt to reach him. Pace must have warned the pack that he was in a bad mood. Not that they needed the warning. They'd seen him raging at the construction site.

Foliage flew past him as he ran. He didn't see it. His eyes were focused solely on the ground right before it disappeared under his paws. He didn't want to know where he was going. That wasn't the point. He just wanted to go.

Regardless, it was hard to miss when he suddenly ran out of trees, and Liam came to a skidding halt before turning tail and scampering back to cover. He'd run out into a yard, and a familiar gray house stood maybe thirty feet away from the tree line. He bared his teeth at it. It was the Fuller household. He could smell Brady, and his family. Her scent was there too, and someone else's, but he ignored the second. He guessed Penelope's scent would always smell nicer to him then any other. Sounds were coming from the house, and he couldn't quite get his head around them. They were coming from down below, from a small window near the ground, and they weren't human. Out of gut reaction, he phased, pulling shorts on hurriedly.

The sounds began to make sense. It was an electric keyboard and someone had put it on a weird setting that mimicked human voices. Laughter rang out from the basement window, which he now saw was cracked open, and Liam sank down onto the ground to prevent himself from moving closer.

It was Penelope in the basement - Penelope and someone else. Liam shook his head and breathed in deeply, willing himself to focus in the haze of her proximity. It was Collin Littlesea's daughter. Mila. She and Pen had been good friends before, he remembered. The two of them were fooling around on an electric keyboard in Brady's basement. Liam made to stand up.

"Wait, wait. Let me show you this. It's so beautiful." Penelope's voice floated out from the window, and Liam dropped back down to the ground. The keyboard was set back on a grand piano setting, and music poured out from the window. It was a sort of mournful melody and Liam let his eyes slide shut. Her scent soothed him in a way he hadn't expected. He almost felt like dozing off. He might have, actually, had another scent not become frighteningly prominent in a matter of seconds.


	13. Chapter 13

Penelope was playing her favorite song for Mila, who had come over after dinner for a sleepover. They'd dragged mattresses down into the basement and hooked their laptops up for movie watching. Hopefully, the closed basement door would prevent their late night talking from bothering the rest of Penelope's family. The twins had already been put to bed, but Pen could hear her mother and father milling around upstairs.

This was her favorite time of day (except those few instances in the dead of night); playing the basement was comfortable. The cool night air was refreshing and made it fun to wrap up in big sweatshirts and thick socks, and Pen liked listening to her family. Her grandparents were very quiet people who went to bed at an earlier than usual time of night, and it was pleasant to listen to Cora tell wild tales and hear Brady's booming laughter. Her fingers flew over the keys, timidly at first under Mila's eyes, and then with growing confidence.

"This is from a movie, isn't it?" her friend asked half-way through the piece.

"It is," Penelope confirmed, sweeping a hand down to the far end of the keyboard. "How ever did you know?"

"You always pick out the best music from movies. I don't even pay attention to it when I'm watching."

Penelope couldn't formulate a response, and so scoffed obnoxiously to convey her disapproval. Her fingers quickened. She was reaching her favorite part of the piece.

Something outside crashed loudly, and both girls jumped. Without Pen's music, voices could be heard.

"Is that your dad?" Mila asked quietly. Pen stood on the piano bench, but only managed to see two sets of ankles. She did recognize Brady's voice though, and took off towards the stairs.

"Come on," she hissed, and Mila followed closely behind as she made her way up and out of the basement, and to the front door. They both paused for a moment, listening.

"You have no right bringing her into this!"

That was Brady.

"You're putting her in danger - did you ever think of that?"

Someone else said something so quietly that Pen couldn't hear it. She turned the door handle as gently as she could and peaked her head out.

"Slide down a little," Mila said, barely above a whisper. Pen crouched down in front of the open door and Mila moved in behind her. Through the five inch crack they'd made, they could see Brady facing off against someone who stood partially in shadow.

"That's not…"

"I think it is," Mila finished for her. "What's he doing here?"

"What is my dad yelling about though? It doesn't make sense."

Penelope watched closely. Brady's eyes were shining with the same ferocity she'd seen at dinner with the Uleys, some days ago. She'd never seen Brady get mad. It made her all the more curious about the reason for his anger.

"Brady, it's not like I can help it -"

"Oh, you can help it, boy. Get the fuck off my lawn."

"It wasn't like that, and you know it."

"I don't care what it was like. I won't let you anywhere near Penelope." Mila dropped a hand onto Pen's shoulder. Neither of them moved. Brady was puffing himself up. His fists were clenching at his sides, and his voice had slid down into a growling octave. Liam Uley stepped out of the shadows, looking just as furious and just as dangerous as Brady was.

"Look, Brady. You think I wanted this? I was just fine by myself until she came along to make me her goddamn lap dog."

"Penelope?" Her mother was rounding the corridor, but neither girl had a chance to look her way because Brady had launched himself at Liam and promptly exploded into a horse-sized, snarling mass of fur and teeth. Pen's mouth was open to scream, when, with inhuman agility, Liam dropped to the ground and rolled out from under the attack. By the time he'd come out of the roll, Liam Uley had ripped apart into a similar creature, that bared it's teeth at the one that had been her stepfather, and raised furry hackles.

A strong hand came down around Pen's shoulder, and she was dragged back away from the door. Mila had been pulled away in a similar manner. Cora let go of their arms and flung herself at the door. It shut with a massive bang. The growling and scuffling from beyond stopped for a split second. Then, after a large crash of branches and leaves, there was silence. Both girls found themselves staring at Coraline, who was propped up against the front door. She let out a shuddering sigh and brushed a lock of stray hair back from her face.

"I think we need some tea. Kitchen - both of you," she said softly, and stood without another word. Penelope and Mila followed in silence. Coraline put water on to boil, and leaned back against the kitchen counter, one arm crossed over her chest, and the other propping her head up atop a splayed hand. "Penelope, would you mind going to check on the twins? Just make sure they get back to sleep."

It took her a minute to motivate. Coraline gave her a little smile, and Pen backed down the hall to the stairs, arms wrapped around herself. The twins were sitting on the top stair, huddled together, their eyes half shut with sleep.

"What happened, Pen?"

"Where's mommy?"

Their worried little faces gave her something else to focus on, and Penelope shook herself into action.

"Mommy is in the kitchen. A dumpster fell over and made a big boom. Don't worry. Daddy went out to fix it," she explained, wincing at the mention of Brady. She herded the boys back into their room and tucked them both back under their covers. She kissed both foreheads and made sure the night light was working.

"Sweet dreams, gremlins. I'll see you in the morning."

They didn't answer, and Pen slipped out of the room, closing the door on her way. By the time she'd made it down to the kitchen, her arms were back around her stomach. Her mind kept replaying what she thought she'd seen, and her tired brain struggled to make sense of it.

Mila was huddled at the table when she re-entered the room, and her mother was pouring water into three mugs.

"I made rooibos," Coraline murmured quietly. "It's not caffeinated, but it will warm us all up."

Mila eyed Pen as she sat down. "Some sleep over, huh?"

Pen couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah!" she barked. Cora joined them at the table and they each took a mug.

"I've already had a little chat with Mila," Mrs. Fuller said, passing out sugar and milk. "So Pen, you're up."

Pen shrugged and slurped some tea. "Hit me." Mila hooked her arm through Pen's elbow. Cora pursed her lips.

"You're stepfather is one of the shape-shifters of the Quileute legends, and so are most of the men and boys you know here."

"Nice hit," Pen said hoarsely, and took another gulp of rooibos. Mila laughed, but it was weak.

"It left me a little black and blue when I found out too," Cora mused, sipping from her mug. "But it's become my life. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Mila began to say something, but no sound left her mouth. Pen nudged her mug closer. Mila took a sip, and then started again. "Dad goes out at weird times during the night sometimes. He talks about shifts, but I know the construction company doesn't work in the middle of the night."

"Sam Uley was the first one in our generation to phase. All his workers, and all the sons of those workers who are around 16 and older, are shifters. They run shifts daily to protect the reservation."

"From what?" Penelope asked dryly. Mila bumped her shoulder.

"Don't ask that. You don't want to know that yet."

Once again feeling the urge to laugh hysterically, Pen accepted the statement and stayed quiet.

"The wolf gene only appears in boys, right?" Mila asked, and Pen nearly choked on her tea. Wolf gene. Oh, she was in way too deep.

"Well, that's what everybody thought, until Leah Clearwater phased."

"Mrs. Clearwater?" Penelope gasped. "Oh, god."

"Penelope, I know this is absolutely insane, but you need to hear it. It's going to become your life now too," her mother tried to reason. Pen didn't even bother asking why.

"So, does this have anything to do with the fact that Dad - Brady hates Liam Uley?"

She felt a tug on her arm again from Mila.

"Don't ask that either," she mumbled, and nodded at Pen's mug.

"And when did you get so knowledgeable on werewolves?" Penelope asked. She did her best to grin though, and Mila seemed to understand her snappishness. They both gulped down more tea.

"My dad told me the legends of my ancestors over and over and over again. It's all making sense now, I guess."

"Well, Brady told them to me too, but I -"

Coraline and Mila stared at her worriedly. Penelope had frozen, tea mug in hand, mouth open to continue her sentence. A particular dazed expression and mashed potatoes were running through her mind, along with a tidbit of Brady's stories.

"These, uh, legends. Are they all true?"

Mila stared down at the table top. Coraline nodded cautiously.

"Aha," Penelope hummed and drummed her fingertips on the table. "Liam Uley," she began. "He didn't, uh, you know. He didn't…"

"Imprint?" Mila provided blandly, her head fully resting on the table now. "Mrs. Fuller, I think we've had enough for tonight. Can we continue this in the morning?"

Penelope remained speechless as her mother prodded both of them back downstairs and tucked them in like small children. When the door to the ground floor closed, and they'd listened to Cora finish the dishes and climb the stairs to bed, Pen heard Mila roll over.

"I'm so glad you were with me," she whispered, and Pen felt her chest seize up.

"Me too," she squeaked. They shared a tense giggle, and then sometime during the ensuing silence, Penelope dropped gratefully off to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

The week following the bad dream was weird - dreamlike in another sense. Pen found herself idling around the house a lot, avoiding everyone, including the gremlins (their squabbles involved too much curling of upper lips and growling). She even avoided the basement and her beloved keyboard, knowing that she'd be discovered there most easily. When she wasn't tiptoeing around the house, Pen took to the long, quiet, tree-lined roads, undertaking any errands her mother could give her. Sometimes she drove, but mostly she walked. It took longer, and she was sure her parents did not approve, but Cora and Brady were in no position to scold her anyways.

Besides, the twenty-minute walk to the grocery store was relaxing. It gave her time to think or not think. Not-thinking was something she'd made into an activity of sorts. As she tromped down the quiet road, she listened to the rubbery scrape of her sneakers on the asphalt. She marked her speed and tried to keep it as constant as possible, even when she took on the little hills that lay in her way. It made for good exercise, and distracted her (just barely) from other things. Sometimes she brought her music with her, and that was another form of not-thinking. She memorized lyrics, hummed harmonies and matched her steps to the beat of heavy bass. Listening to music was perhaps the most enjoyable form of not-thinking, but she'd woken to find her iPod out of battery (a rare occurence). She was left to make her way to the store without it's help.

Once again, she found herself standing in front of the lunch meat cooler, staring up at rows and rows of thinly sliced meat. More specifically, she found herself fixating on the yellow-gold packaging of 'Freedman's Honeyed Ham'. The boys had devoured the stuff the last time she'd brought it home. She'd liked it herself. But she couldn't quite get her fingers to uncurl from around the handle of her shopping basket. So, she continued to stare, and continued to play her not-thinking game, oblivious to the shoppers who wove around her.

"Can I help you?"

Pen surged forward and wacked her shins on the metal bottom of the cooler.

"_Fuck!_" she spat under her breath. She clenched her teeth together and cocked her head to the side just enough to see who was standing behind her.

Tanned skin, black hair, dark eyes - but unfamiliar. She swallowed and tried to relax again.

"No. Thanks."

"I'm sorry about -"

"Don't worry about it," she barked, forcing a smile. She snatched a packet of turkey off the shelf and made for the cash register.

The turkey was twenty-five cents more expensive than the honeyed ham had been. Pen didn't even know how she'd remembered that, and she tried to sink herself back down into not-thinking. Just like Dory, in _Finding Nemo_: "just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming."

Just stop thinking, just stop thinking, just stop thinking, thinking, thinking.

She crested a hill, switched a grocery bag to her left hand, raised the other to brush her nose (a habit), and stopped dead when Liam Uley jogged up the opposite side of the hill.

He stopped abruptly too, or tried to, instead tripping over his feet.

Pen didn't have to try to clear her mind. The barrage of feelings and thoughts that hit her in the first five seconds of seeing him subsided and left her feeling strangely numb. Wariness and adrenaline tingled in her fingertips, though.

Liam was breathing a little heavily, but other than that, Pen heard nothing from him. She watched his chest rise and fall for a moment, before shifted her bags again.

"Grocery run?" Liam asked. Pen glanced at her cargo.

"Yeah," she replied. Her cheek twitched in a cheap imitation of a smile. Liam nodded in understanding. He hadn't looked away from her yet, and it was starting to get on her nerves. She shifted again. The plastic handles of the bags were starting to cut into her fingers. Her knuckles hurt from holding on so tightly. Liam opened his mouth, as though he was about to say something. She watched him glance away from her and down at her shopping bags, and willed him not to ask if she needed any help.

Liam shut his mouth, looked down at the road and ran a hand over his head.

"I won't keep you," he said a moment later and she wished she hadn't been watching him. He met her eyes, and she couldn't look away. "Have a good day."

"You too," she managed to choke out, and then he was gone, loping off down the hill. Penelope regained control over her feet several moments later.


	15. Chapter 15

Meals were especially problematic, because the family ate together. Her parents took turns giving her worried looks (though it was more her mother - Brady was more subtle, more afraid to meet her eyes). She ended up tending to her brothers a lot to escape their attention.

"Chew your food."

"Wipe your mouth."

"Use your napkin, not your hands."

"Just try a bite. You might like it."

"It's healthy for you. Eat it."

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

"Please don't talk with your mouth full."

"Go get a new fork. The five-second-rule does not apply."

"I said no."

"Sit back down. I'll get it."

"Did you wash your hands? Hot water _and_ soap?"

"No. _Now_."

Her lonely walks to the grocery store had expanded to exploring the grey beaches and well-travelled paths through some of the wooded areas. She especially liked the beach. Where she came from, beaches were densely populated, hot as hell, sandy and sunny. They were stereotypical, at times picturesque - though less often than many would think.

The beach on which Penelope currently sat, was, in a word, grey. But it was beautiful too. The ground was pebbly, a mix of darker and lighter greys and blacks. The water rocked and foamed like the water in California, but it reflected a grey-white sky, not a baby blue one. If she'd seen a picture of it all, she would have called it desolate. But it wasn't, not really. The comfort she got from the sound of waves breaking on the shore was universal. The smell of the sea was familiar too. Pen could bring her book and a towel, settle herself against a particular driftwood log, and read without distractions or stress for several hours. It was like living in a black and white world.

It was yet another form of not-thinking. Her walks in the woods were less effective because she had to keep defending herself from hordes of mosquitoes, which made her agitated. Maybe that made it a better type of not-thinking. She didn't really care that much. It wasn't worth the mosquito bites either way. On the beach, brisk breezes kept most of the little buggers away. Sometimes she heard the splashing and shouting of swimmers on the other side of the little cove she'd found, but usually she felt alone and at one with the world.

Liam also felt at one with the world when he visited the beach. He'd been assigned a patrol route for that week that ran along side the rocky shore, and at the end of it, he often let himself rest among the trees that stood at it's edge. The waves and salty air and occasional bird calls were only half the appeal for him though. It was the scent of his imprint and the sound of her humming or turning a page in her book, that calmed his blood and heart after his patrol, that let his exhausted mind finally rest. Curled head-to-tail near a row of berry bushes, he didn't have to see her, or acknowledge who she was or what she meant to him. But he could have relief from the ever present ache in his chest, caused by whatever it was he refused to understand that linked him to the person just beyond the row of pine trees.


	16. Chapter 16

Once again, Penelope found herself leaving her bedroom for the basement on a rather regular basis. Whenever she'd been stressed or at odds with her grandparents, she'd done the same thing. It was a habit, a bit of insomnia that was sparked by tension and insecurity, and her only way to deal with it was to venture down to her keyboard and play in the dead of night.

She knew Brady knew she was doing it. He'd always known. She guessed she knew why that was now, but she didn't want to think about it. She was alone, the boys sleeping over at the Camerons, her mother fast asleep upstairs, and Brady absent. She didn't want to think about that either.

Regardless of it all, she knew he wouldn't be likely to call her on her habit. As long as she didn't ask him why he'd never told her he could explode into a giant wolf, she was sure Brady wouldn't comment on her late nights at the piano.

At this stage, she was going to her room at around 10:30, waiting until everyone else was tucked in, and then going downstairs for another couple of hours. It was usually past 3:00 AM when she got to sleep. On nights like this, though, when her mother was the only other person in the house, she allowed herself to take advantage of Coraline's deep sleep and play without headphones. She figured that any sound that got through the basement door, up two floors and through her mother's bedroom door would be faint.

Recently, she'd been teaching herself a new piece of music that she'd found online, but she'd left her laptop upstairs. Her ability to concentrate would only allow renditions of pieces she was already familiar with. Her iPod read 2:23 AM, but Penelope's eyelids didn't even feel heavy. It looked like it was going to be another 3:00 AM night. Pen pressed on, fanning her fingers out over the keys, sweeping them down from one end of the keyboard to the other to finish the piece with a flourish. The few seconds of silence that followed were deafening.

"Hey, Pen?"

"Oh, _Jesus_!" Pen hissed, winging her head around. Brady was standing at the foot of the stairs. She couldn't explain the urge to cry that she felt. She wondered how long he'd been standing there. She hadn't even heard him come in.

"Sorry," he whispered and looked down at his hands. Maybe she was tired. Maybe that was why she felt like bawling. She snatched up her iPod, punched the little power button on the keyboard and pulled it's lid down. "I didn't mean to disturb you," Brady said, watching her.

"Don't worry about it. It's late anyways."

"That hasn't seemed to matter much lately," Brady pressed, and Pen felt her throat start to close up. She tried to dart past him. "Pen."

She stopped, one foot up on the first step, silent tears running down her cheeks.

"You've been up all night every night for the past week. It's not healthy."

He had a hand wrapped around her wrist now. She didn't like how hot it was against her skin. She hated it, now that she knew what it was. But he was pulling her down off the stair and wrapping all of her up now, holding her close, and the tears were falling faster. Brady sank down against the stairs and thumped her back and rocked back and forth, back and forth.

"I didn't want this for you," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

If it hadn't been for the hiccups, she would have told him it was alright, that'd she'd be okay in a moment.

"I'm sorry, honey. I'm so sorry."

She breathed hard, trying to ease the hyperventilating. "Y-you scared m-me," she babbled through the tears, "I don't wah-wanna be scared of you!"

"Oh, Penelope," Brady soothed, holding her tighter. "You don't need to be scared. It's just the opposite. I will be there for you whenever you need me. I promise. Any of us will be - Sam, Collin, Jared. Even the boys. We won't let anything happen to you."

"E-even -" Pen hiccupped.

"Especially Liam, as much as I hate to say it," Brady grunted. Pen managed a grin against his warm neck. "So don't you be scared, honey. Don't you be scared."

Brady sat with her on the stairs while she shook and hiccupped and wiped mucous on his shirt, until she went limp and her breathing steadied. He brought her back to her bedroom, and took a moment to hold his little growing-up girl, whose voice had dropped and figure changed, who had opinions and intelligence, but whose little head still fit perfectly against the crook of his neck. Then he tucked her in and kissed her head, shut the door as quietly as he could, and let his own worries be smoothed away in the arms of his wife.


	17. Chapter 17

Penelope slept late the next morning. She could hear her family banging around downstairs, and it was comforting. She hadn't dreamed at all, but the feeling of Brady's embrace had lingered pleasantly. It made her want to apologize for avoiding her family for so long. Even the twins must have felt her temper. She'd basically picked on them mercilessly for a week to avoid her parents' attentions. She hadn't even heard from Mila, who must have been going through the exact same thing.

Penelope huffed loudly, and threw off her covers. She had work to do today. Pulling on the appropriate sweaters, slippers and flannel pants, she tumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. Her family sat around the table.

"Mornin' honey," Brady said, and reached for her. Penelope smiled and let him hold her for a few moments.

"I'm sorry I've been mean to everybody," she said when Brady released her. Her mother smiled. Brady would have, but the bacon hanging out of his mouth somewhat prevented it. Penelope's mind flew to Liam's wide, infectious smile.

"Arrest her, mommy," Toby voted, and Penelope brought herself hastily back to the present.

"Yeah, arrest her and put her in time-out," Tommy added. They both crossed their little arms and scrunched their noses up at her.

"Fine, fine," Penelope said, sliding in beside her mother and reaching for some toast. "I deserve it. It's really too bad though."

Tommy narrowed his eyes. Toby pouted. She was proud they'd caught on so quickly, but hid her amusement.

"Why?" one of them asked suspiciously.

"Well, I was going to take you two to the beach to make up for it all, but I guess that's out of the question now, eh?"

"Nooooo!" Toby squealed, kicking his legs viciously. Coraline laughed, and grabbed hold of Tommy's hand, which he'd been smacking against the table top in anguish.

"It's all out of the question, actually," their mother said quietly. "Because we're all going to Port Angeles today to do some shopping at the mall!"

Brady clapped his hands over his ears when all three children howled their displeasure.

"Dear, please. They're going to tear the house down."

"Not if I have anything to do with it. Come on, now. Boys, shower. Pen, eat faster. We leave in an hour."

"Mommy, we told you yesterday."

"No more showers!"

"Well, that was yesterday. Come on, boys," Brady said, standing up. He winked at Cora and Penelope, grabbed his cup of coffee, and herded the two snarling gremlins towards the stairs.

"All the way to Port Angeles," Penelope mused, buttering her toast. "Must we, mother?"

"We must," Coraline sighed. "I don't like it either, but the boys both need new button ups and swim trunks, and I was thinking we'd get you a nice dress for this weekend."

"This weekend? Why?" Penelope snapped, stopping her knife. Coraline took a slow slurp of coffee, trying to look innocent.

"Oh, we've got one of those barbeques on the beach with the rest of the gang. It's sort of mandatory for our little community, _which _you are now a part of, my sweet. I thought you'd want to look a little nice, seeing as everyone will be there."

"Oh my god, mother. Really? You're just saying that because Liam will be there."

"I said nothing of the sort, sweetie. But you really shouldn't worry about Liam. He's such a sweet kid."

"Mother," Penelope whined with as much condescension as she could manage. The argument continued, but it was useless. Coraline was convinced. Penelope trudged upstairs to get dressed. The only thing she'd won was permission to invite Mila, which would at least put some distance between herself and the gremlins, who had a violent allergy to shopping malls and changing rooms.

With much satisfaction, Penelope watched her mother walk away towards the boys section of Target, dragging the twins each by a hand. Penelope, arm in arm with Mila, were off to the Gap. Mila had seen some nice dresses and skirts the last time she'd been at the mall.

"How long ago were you here?" Penelope asked.

"A week or two," Mila answered off-handedly.

"Were they on sale?"

"What?"

"The dresses."

"Oh, I don't know."

"Because the prices are insane."

"I _know_!" Mila gasped. "It's ridiculous."

"Makes me mad," Penelope grunted. "Don't let me buy anything too expensive unless its absolutely spectacular on me, okay?"

"Gotcha," Mila assured her. The prices were, as previously mentioned, insane. Penelope liked the simplistic styles she saw, but none of them were worth the amount of money on the tags.

"You know what? I bought a new pair of jeans recently in California. Mom hasn't seen them yet. I'll wear those and buy a new top."

"Whatever you want," Mila said, eyeing a restaurant appreciatively. "Look, I know your mom promised us lunch when we meet up, but I am _starving_."

"I know..." Penelope swallowed heavily. "I want to get the shopping over with though," she expressed.

"Quick! I see cool tops," Mila barked, and dragged Penelope into a store across the way. Perhaps it was the hunger that fueled Penelope and gave her the strength to be efficient. Perhaps it was fate that the first top she picked up was actually a dress that fit perfectly and wasn't all that expensive. Whatever the case, she walked away satisfied, and they set out to beat Coraline and the boys to lunch.

Pen pulled out her phone. Brady had sent her a text: _I love you, honey. Have a great day and be patient with your mother. _She smiled.

"My dad says he's got food poisoning," Mila read from her own phone. "I won't give you the details he's just given me. Can we stop at the pharmacy?"

Penelope couldn't help but laugh. "Of course."


	18. Chapter 18

The day of the beach barbeque arrived far too quickly for Penelope's liking. She found herself slumped on her bed, refusing to move or get ready as her parents and brothers scurried around the house, taking showers, getting dressed and preparing meals. It wasn't until Mila stomped upstairs and yanked at a strand of her hair that Pen managed to snap to.

"Your parents are leaving. We'll catch up with them in a little bit. Dad leant me the car," Mila barked out. Penelope, massaging her head tenderly, scowled.

"Who let you in?" she sneered. They stared at each other for a moment in silence, fighting to keep straight faces.

"Your mom!" Mila cried, winging a pillow up at Penelope's face. "Ha!"

"That was pathetic," Pen complained, but felt slightly revived from her stupor. Mila took a seat next to her on the bed.

"How are you doing?" she asked. Pen had no doubt about what Mila was referring to. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head a little.

"Alright. I talked to Brady the other night. Well, cried on him really. But we're better now. I don't feel so spacey."

Mila made a noise of agreement. "My dad knew the minute I walked in the door. Someone must have told him what had happened. Honestly, I just think he was relieved not to have to hide it anymore. I'm an only child. It's not like he's got to hide it from anyone else now."

A thought struck Penelope, and she wondered why it had not occurred to her before.

"Are the twins...?"

Mila looked hesitant. "They have a high chance of being shifters, I'm sorry to say."

"Ugh," Pen said. "They'll truly be unmanageable. Can I move in with you?"

"Of course," Mila assured her. "Now. Get ready. We'll be fashionably late if you get going."

"I don't want to go."

"Too bad."

"My tummy hurts."

"Suck it up," Mila said, and hopped off the bed. "Where's that dress?"

"Ooooh, it's too cold for a dress!" Pen whined. "Mommy, don't make me!"

"Come _on_ Pen, it's just an evening at the beach. I've been to them before. They're fun."

Penelope's reply was muffled by the pillow her head was stuffed under.

"What?" Mila said, and Pen sat up.

"Just don't leave me alone with Liam. None of this wolf business changes the fact that I don't know him that well. I don't care if he is my soul mate. It's weird."

"I promise I won't leave you alone with Liam _unless _it's appropriate." At Penelope's appalled look, she continued. "Let's not make any promises that we're not completely sure about, okay?"

"Agh," Penelope grumbled, but rolled off the bed and went to get dressed. By the time they were closing the front door behind them, Penelope in her new patterned sundress and Mila in a skirt and blouse, it was nearing 5:00. The sun was low enough that it struck both girls right at eye level, so Mila had to drive slowly. It was 5:30 when she pulled up along side the Fuller vehicle. They could hear the waves and voices just a little ways away.

Familiar faces were all grouped around a fire on the beach. Many were seated on coolers and on a few logs that had been dragged over. Two or three of the younger boys were tossing a football back and forth between each other. Penelope found Liam immediately, standing with his hands in his pockets with a couple others, apparently watching the tossing game absently. She looked away and sought the gremlins out.

Tommy and Toby were kicking their heels against the log they were sitting on, chowing down hotdogs with their best friend, Cole Cameron. Leaving Mila to follow behind her, she went to sit next to Tommy.

"Hey boys," she said, waving to Cole, who shrank away bashfully. "Hi Cole! Do you remember me?"

The little boy shook his head slowly, sucking a finger clean of ketchup. Toby elbowed him.

"That's Penny. She's my sister."

"Yeah, my sister," Tommy added, leaning to look at Cole. "But her real name is Penelope." He drew her name out, annunciation clearly for his buddy's benefit. Cole just looked sheepish.

"Someone has a crush," Mila whispered on Pen's other side. Penelope allowed herself a laugh.

"Don't worry, Cole. You can call me Pen," she assured him. Brady waved to her, and after ordering all three boys to wipe their mouths and hands and throw away their trash, she and Mila made their way over.

"What do you want for dinner?" Brady asked, gesturing to a couple containers of food; hotdogs, potato salad, peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches, all in massive quantities.

"I'll grab a hotdog and some potatoes," Penelope decided. Mila grabbed a sandwich and some salad while Penelope slathered condiments on her hotdog. The conversation between Brady and Collin Littlesea died down, just as the laughter from Coraline and Kim Cameron did, and suddenly, it was quieter. Penelope looked up. Everyone was watching Liam as he reached for a can of coke from the cooler beside the food. He wasn't looking at her. She went back to evening out her mustard.

"Pass me one of those, would you?" she said, as casually as she could.

"Of course," Liam responded just as casually, handing her the can he'd just picked up and reaching in for another. "Mila, can I get you anything?"

"Diet, please."

Liam pulled his hand out of the cooler and stretched the diet Coke out to Mila. She took it from him, and Liam returned to his friends. Brady cracked a joke. Mila trained her eyes on her food. Penelope looped an arm through hers and they found new seats, opposite the little boys. It was beginning to get dark out, and the girls ate in relative silence, watching the fire grow as various people fed it wood. Despite the silence, and the attention everyone seemed to be paying to the brief interactions between herself and Liam, Penelope was enjoying herself. It was very pleasant to sit around the fire with her friends and family. She hadn't seen a lot of them in years. Most of the boys her age were enthusiastic in re-introducing themselves, but most of them also seemed to be treating her a little delicately. She noticed quite a few glances in Liam's direction.

A panel of sorts had been formed across the fire, composed mostly of elderly people she didn't recognize. They seemed rarely to smile, and talked mostly amongst themselves, although Sam had managed to engage one of them in conversation for a while. Penelope watched them absently, feeling the night air grow colder. In the back of her mind, she knew what they were here for. She remembered the tradition that would doubtlessly take place soon. She dreaded it in a sort of dull way. She watched Sam take a seat and shush Nate, who was talking boisterously with friends, and felt her stomach tighten. The empty spaces on logs and coolers were filling up as the older boys who had been milling around, the shape shifters, found places around the fire. Several of them cradled girlfriends. Penelope noticed that her mother was running her fingers affectionately through Brady's hair. She sat on a log and he sat between her legs in the sand. The other married couples were doing similar things to each other.

Penelope stood up. Her hands were cold, and someone had brought a thermos with decaf coffee in it. She turned towards the lone cooler on which the thermos was perched, sitting in the sand outside the ring of people. Liam was standing by it, two disposable cups in hand. He looked down at them momentarily, and then back up. Without a word, he turned away from the fire and advanced towards the tree line. Penelope followed him.


	19. Chapter 19

Penelope didn't question it when she found herself on the little rocky shore that she'd been hiding away at, facing Liam's back and looking out at the dark sea. She was still cold, shivering in the stupid little print sundress she'd bought at the mall with Mila. She took a seat on the same hunk of driftwood that she'd leaned up against to read her book during those long days of not-thinking and avoiding. Liam turned away from the water and came to sit next to her. She felt the warmth wafting from his skin, and remembered how Brady's was like that too. It must have come with the shifting business. Liam handed her a cup of coffee and she took it gratefully. They sat in silenced for a little while, listening to the waves and taking sips of coffee.

"Dad's going to kill me for making you miss the stories," Liam said dryly. Penelope shrugged.

"I didn't want to hear them anyways."

Liam hummed in understanding and took a sip of coffee. "So," he began, and turned to look at her. No further words were needed to explain their reasons for leaving the group.

"Thanks for the coffee," Penelope said quietly, feeling nervous.

"Not a problem," Liam replied. Despite the warmth of the coffee and his arm against hers, she shivered, and seconds later his arm dropped around her shoulders. "This isn't California. It gets cold here," he chided.

"Shut up Liam," she retorted mildly. Her head thumped down on his shoulder and she let herself be tucked up alongside him. The world seemed quiet except for the sea and the occasional bug. Just like before, she felt like she was completely alone on this little coast, alone with Liam, and comforted by the calmness of it all. "Were you here all along?" she asked quietly.

Liam didn't answer, but he swung his head around to watch her.

"When I was here before - you were here too, weren't you?" Pen rotated the cup in her hands and pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her feet on the driftwood. "This feels like it did then."

When she looked over, Liam was smiling just a little; a tiny pull at his cheeks that made well-worn smile lines appear. She leant into his side and looked back over the water.

"We can make this work, can't we?" she asked. Liam leaned in and she felt the soft press of his lips against the side of her head.

"We can do anything," he replied quietly. "No story will define us. Nothing will define us."

Penelope dismissed the fierce undertone with which he spoke those last words, and let her head fall back down on his shoulder.

"Just as long as you don't chase me around the neighborhood or pull my hair…"

"Penelope, that was like ten years ago!"

"Still hurt."

"Yeah? Well I'm sorry," Liam said and turned so to take her face in his hands. Gently, he tilted her face down and placed a few kisses on the crown of her head. Penelope felt herself flush. "There," he whispered, lifting her face. "All better."

Penelope let the lovely moment stretch for a few seconds before rolling her eyes. "As if," she teased, and watched Liam's face brighten as he smiled. She wanted to run her finger tips over the smile lines that creased his cheeks. She didn't think she'd ever seen a smile that radiated such good-natured happiness. A deep chuckle issued from his open mouth, and Liam's hands slid from the sides of her face to her neck and jaw.

"You're never going to let this go, are you?" he guessed. Pen grinned ruefully, but decided not to grace him with any further answers. Liam tucked her back up against his side and they sat in silence for a while. Laughter echoed over the water.

"Do you think the legends are over?" Pen asked quietly, lifting her chin to catch a glimpse of Liam's expression. He was staring up at the stars, face relaxed, countenance calm.

"By now, yeah," he replied. "You ready to go?"

Penelope tilted her head up further to see the spread of bright stars overhead. The dark blanket of sky began to come into focus, a mesh of blacks and deep blues. "No," she answered.

Liam chuckled. "Good."

They didn't speak another word until the rest of the party finally found them, and coaxed both tired star-gazers into cars.


End file.
